Peace

Another peaceful hiking picture, this one of my husband and his friend, Dodger.

The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. (Ecclesiastes 12:13)

In her Bible Recap podcast, Tara Leigh Cobble sums up Ecclesiastes this way: "We'll see pain and joy in our lives, but our job is to enjoy and obey God regardless."

"Our job." "The whole duty of man." 

That sounds so limiting, doesn't it? Who is the Ecclesiastes preacher, or God, or anyone, to tell us what our job is, to what "whole duty" we should devote our lives? Shouldn't I be the one to decide that?

Or at least that's what I would have thought a few years ago. That's what it seems normal to think these days.

Just a few days ago, I saw this on a cover of a magazine in my company's waiting area:

I know I've changed because I honestly found this quote a little shocking, so I couldn't help but snap a picture.

"Don't limit yourself." That is part of our 21st-cenury American zeitgeist, the spirit of our age. Barriers Bad/Freedom Good. Everyone knows that, right?

Only it's wrong. If there are no limits, there is no peace. If there are no barriers, there is always the knowledge that there's more our there, or could be if we would only grasp it; there is more beyond the next curve on the horizon--more money, more power, more beauty, more success, more victory, more self-discovery, more happiness.

More peace.

Or let's be honest. If you're constantly feeling that there's more, if you suffer from FOMO at all, then peace is a fantasy. There is no "more" peace to be found, because there is no peace to begin with.

I have learned that there is peace in barriers. There is peace in knowing that my job is this and not that, and that I have a "whole duty" at all. And there is such peace in knowing that that duty comes from a transcendent place--or I should say ACCEPTING that the duty comes from a transcendent place.

Enjoy God and obey him. That's it. Because nothing else is guaranteed.