Comfort

Over on Facebook, my brother made the comment that life is more about struggle than comfort. This is, no doubt, true for most of humanity throughout history. It also is something that can be taken as either a depressing comment from someone or as a sign of hope. The latter comes when having struggled, there is a pause, an arrival, an accomplishment. A long hike that gets you there and back again. A grinding schedule that arrives at a finished, creative, new product. Certainly the life God calls us to is not only about struggle. After all, God insisted that his people take at least one day off a week. To rest. To enjoy comfort in its appropriate portion.

Comfort is more relaxing and holistic after the struggle.

It’s like eating. Eating everything in sight is bad for health, but it can become an obsession. People pursue it because their appetites grow. Food only becomes satisfying in immense portions, distorting the mind and the body and the will. It becomes a drug, a way of calming a frenetic soul. Filling and filling and filling, never an end. Well, except for the much bigger rear end that results.

Eating after hard work and when you are very hungry means every morsel is a delight. Even small portions are ecstatic experiences.

Comfort when all of life is comfortable, or living a life of constant pursuit of comfort leaves a person flabby in mind and soul.

Indeed, I think there’s probably many more people who are morbidly comfortable than those who are morbidly obese.

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