Full Stomach Starving Soul

When I was a kid, the fall often involved me grabbing a .22 rifle and heading behind our house in the woods with all the confidence of a kid who thought he could survive indefinitely on bologna sandwiches and Kool-aid.

I heard somebody say the other day that letting a young kid head off into the woods by himself nowadays with a 22 would probably get Child Protective Services called on you. Back in the 1980s, we just called that a Monday after school.

I'd wander ridges, and hollers, squirrel hunting for hours. It seemed like every trip into the woods included at least one grouse flush. Sometimes two or three.

If you've never had a grouse explode from under your feet, it's hard to explain. One second you're quietly sneaking through the woods. The next second your heart has jumped into your throat, your hat has almost flown off your head, and you've briefly considered whether you need to update your will or change undershorts.

Back then grouse were everywhere.

Nowadays, if I see a couple in a year, I start wondering if I should report the sighting to the Department of Wildlife. If I see enough to actually take a shot, I don't because I'd rather see them come back to the numbers we once had.

Over the years I've heard every theory imaginable about where the grouse went.

Some blame raccoons.

Some blame turkeys.

Some blame coyotes.

Some blame bobcats.

Some blame habitat changes.

And if you've ever been around a bunch of hunters, by the end of the conversation somebody will probably blame the government, and drones.

One explanation I read a while back caught my attention.

It involved a plant called autumn olive.

Now if you're not from this area, you may not know what an autumn olive is. Around here it's one of those bushes that seems determined to own every square inch of ground not currently occupied by a house, barn, or pickup truck.

Between autumn olive and kudzu, if you leave home for vacation two weeks, you might return and not be able to find it.

The bush produces berries that wildlife loves. Some folks even make jam out of them.

But according to the article, the berries have very little nutritional value.

And that's when a thought hit me.

The world offers us berry after berry after berry.

More money.

More entertainment.

More success.

More followers.

More possessions.

More pleasure.

More recognition.

And every time we take another bite, we think, "That's it. That's what I've been missing."

Yet somehow we're still empty.

Spiritually speaking, we're drying up like meatloaf on a buffet.

John warned us about this very thing. "Do not love the world or the things in the world." (1 John 2:15) Notice John doesn't say the world won't be attractive.

It is attractive.

That's the problem.

The berries look good.

The world promises satisfaction.

But John reminds us that the desires of the flesh, the desires of the eyes, and the pride of life are all passing away.

People spend their entire lives chasing things that won't last five minutes into eternity.

A bigger house.

A bigger paycheck.

A bigger reputation.

A bigger collection of things.

And at the end they discover they were eating autumn olive berries all along.

James gets even stronger. "Friendship with the world is hostility toward God." (James 4:4)

James isn't saying we shouldn't love people in the world. He's saying we cannot adopt the world's values and still expect intimacy with God. Eventually you have to choose which kingdom you're living for.

Jesus illustrated this perfectly in the Parable of the Sower. "The worries of this age and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word." (Matthew 13:22)

Notice wealth is deceitful. It lies.

It whispers, "Just a little more and you'll be satisfied."

Then when you get a little more, it says, "Actually, you need a lot more."

It's like drinking salt water. The more you consume, the thirstier you become.

Paul offered the remedy: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." (Romans 12:2)

The world says more stuff equals more happiness. God says more of Christ equals more life. The world says follow your heart. God says follow your Savior. The world says build your kingdom. God says seek first His Kingdom.

The world can fill your calendar.

It can fill your garage.

It can fill your bank account.

It can even fill your stomach.

But it can never fill your soul, only Christ can do that.

So the next time you pass an autumn olive bush loaded with berries, remember the grouse. Being full isn't the same thing as being nourished.

The devil doesn't always destroy people by making them hungry. Sometimes he simply keeps them full of the wrong things.