Cheap Thrills

Last week I forgot that I hated fairs. It took a two-mile walk from our car to remember that I did, indeed, hate fairs. It wasn’t until I bought a ticket, crossed through the ticket booth, and gazed at all of the plastic regality that I remembered I hate fairs. I looked at my good friend Debra and said,

“I think I hate fairs.”

She looked back at me with scrunched brows and said, “You invited me; this was your idea!”

“I know.” I said trying to rack my brain for the reason I wanted to come to this blessed event. “Oh crap. I love festivals; not fairs!”

But it was too late. We had already purchased our tickets, and committed to the candy apple purchase. We were in.

As we meandered around, I looked down at my outfit and realized that my skinny jeans and trendy knit cap were extremely out of place. Let me just list for you the make-you-put-your-head-down-in-shame outfits I witness that night: there were jean jackets worn with jeans, camo tank tops, jeggings tucked into Saconys, and the famous pants so tight that they make your muffin top even more overflowing with batter.

For those of you who know me well, you will not be surprised when I say I…was…mortified.

As if that wasn’t enough, we thought that walking through the petting zoo would help subside the sheer shock of what we were witnessing. But that did not help; it just made it worse, because there were chickens in cages. Chickens. In. Cages. Not unique, authentic, or foreign chickens, but normal chickens from a farm. And people were walking around taking pictures with their IPhones.

So we emerged from the petting zoo and looked around at the big attractions. These included paying $5 to see a live rat, (…-.-…) spending $7 for a hotdog, or watching someone put a slew of people to sleep on stage. Again I say, …-.-…

Amidst the flashing lights from the Ferris wheel and the mist of powdered sugar hanging in the air, I realized something. We pay a lot of money for cheap thrills. We are constantly looking for the alluring bright lights and cheesy attractions to full the gnawing void in our hearts. We hope that a few short hours of fake entertainment will suffice for the sweet fulfillment that Christ gives. Not that any of these things are wrong, (I mean don’t judge me if keep my kids away from the caged chickens) but when we hope to replace them with the eternal hope Christ brings, we are setting ourselves up for a big batch of emptiness.

This blog is an encouragement to do the things you love, but to do them as an overflowing of Christ’s love for you. He will fill you up. He will give you more grace, more love, and more abundance so you don’t have to rely on a $5 candy apple and a giant rat.