Let’s start with a bit of a drill. Set the timer on your phone (or table clock), and see how long it takes you to come up with a fitting ending to this statement: ready, set,… go! “I do what I do because___.
If you’re anything like me, you probably just ignored that exercise, carried on reading, and thought to yourself “I’ll come back to it after I’ve got the gist of the post”. And to you who managed to complete the exercise, well done! I bet it wasn’t an easy one, and you’ve probably gone back to review your answer multiple times.
On my part, I was offered an answer I couldn’t refute, in the form of a passing comment, and catch my attention it did – “I do what I do because I want what I want”. Assuming a certain level of independence, this statement strikes right at the heart of our motivation for doing whatever it is we do, or more broadly, live the way we live. It is a simple, yet sobering thought that subtly invites us to look beyond the surface, and ponder the question of desire – what do I really want?
Enter Jen Pollock Michel’s Teach us to want.
I remember coming across this book some years ago, and not making much of it, I probably responded with a rhetorical ‘want what?’. Yet it was the very book that came to mind, as I pondered the subject of wanting. So I picked it up to read. I am glad I did, because it is such a well-thought out piece of work.
Expounding on The Lord’s prayer, Jen offers godly insights and makes a case for wanting, and wanting well. Whilst acknowledging that desire is not categorically sinful, she admits how easily desires can be corrupted by sin – and sinful desires do muddle things up, substituting small for big, and temporal for eternal.
Each of the book’s 10 chapters has a light-hearted caption that tallies with a big theme. For example, ‘Visions of Sugarplums’ delve into Scripture as its theme. Witty! Each chapter ends with a set of three reflection questions that helps the reader process thoughts in a personal way. There is also a discussion guide at the end of the book, with prompts for further contemplation.
Lest we begin to think in solo terms, Jen emphasizes the need for community in the pursuit of godly desires. “We’re invited into the regular, rhythmic practice of grace at the point of human connection”, she writes.
On the whole, it is quite a practical read, as the author weaves in her own experiences of pain and gain in a relatable manner, balancing truth with a good helping of grace.
“Desire animates faith, and faith, action”. Invariably, I do what I do because I want what I want; so I pray “Father, teach me to want rightly, and help me to live in obedience to those right desires.” Amen.
Thanks for reading!
Sike Osinuga