“If only I…” are the first three words of an unfinished sentence setting our sights on ourselves. At times, we abdicate present responsibilities for some illusory moment. And we always think it will make us “happy,” “fulfilled,” or “enlightened.” We ride the merry-go-round of life, greedily clutching for the golden ring.
“What if?” is a question that might imply creative thought, thinking out-of-the-box. “What if?” could mean an alternative solution to a problem. But most of the time “what if?” questions our present situation. Unsatisfied with “what is,” we think that by creating a brand new situation our problems will be solved and we will be content.
Blowing out the candles on the birthday cake suggests we “make a wish.” But wishes do not necessarily come true. And when we make our wishes come true, it means only one thing: our wishes are our wants. “What if?” can be self-absorbed obsession.
We think about ourselves too much. Our focus is self-centered, directed toward personal interest and outcome. The “now” is our concern only in the sense that we can’t wait for “what’s next?” Our constant look to the future consumes our thinking because WE consume our thinking. I care about tomorrow because I care about me. Present life exists only as a springboard for “down the road.”
Living with “what is” shows contentment for the present without resentment for what might be in the future. We must accept our time and place (Phil 4:11) without forcing completion or even restoration (Prov 15:16; 16:8). Contentment is satisfaction with what we have now (1 Tim 6:6, 8; Heb 13:5) because of He who strengthens me (Phil 4:13). The Stoic idea of self-sufficiency (the meaning of the word “content” in Phil 4:11) is replaced with “the secret” (Phil 4:12) supplied by Christ’s internal change.
I want “what if?” but live with “what is” as something “I have come to learn” (Phil 4:11). I enter a new condition. I think new thoughts. “What if?” is “what was.” “What is” is no longer self-directed but Christ controlled.
Mark struggles with wishing and wanting just as much as anyone; a sure sign of incompletion. A reflection looking out the window at Mahseh.