Wishes and Demands

    I want a thousand things; I do not want them very much. I want to not want anything, because then you're never disappointed, and you never hurt from not having anything. This, though I know it is wrong, still holds me tightly, telling me not to want things.
   I want the job that I applied for, with the large salary, where it's quite possible I would love going to work every day. I want to buy my sisters Christmas presents, and I want them to be lovely (McGyver for one, tickets to The Nutcracker for another, who knows what else for the others). I want to visit South Korea for two years to teach there, and to change things and be changed by those two years. I want to spend a year if Africa, or two, or three, or more. I want to speak Japanese fluently. I want to be out of debt from college; I want three master's degrees, in poetry, literature, and grammar--and possibly one in writing. I want a Ph.D.--or two. I want to never stop studying.
   Dreaming about them, I start to want them more. Romanticizing them, making them ideal in my mind, making them perfect--and we are always drawn to perfection (though my idea of perfection may be different than yours, or your friend's, or my friend's).
   But I look back on them and realize that they could be labeled "My Demands From Life"--which is absolutely ridiculous. You don't demand things from life; you live it to the best of your ability and watch it frustrate, surprise, strengthen, and break you. Life itself is a gift, something not to be taken for granted. But what's the difference between wanting something very strongly and demanding it? Where is the healthy medium between the two? Because to live life without dreams, hope, or wishes is wrong--but so is living it with a list of demands.
   God, help me to find the medium, the place where I want things and work for them, but am still able to let them go if you decide I should not have them. Let me long for the wise, noble, good, pure, perfect things, and live a life where they could belong. Let me want the things that you have in store for me; let me rejoice in what you give me, daily, and may my eyes be open to all the blessings you are already bestowing. Thank you, for the flowers outside my window, for the rose in my room, for the comfortable clothes I own to wear to work, for the good breakfast, for the quiet this morning, for our dry basement, for the sleep last night. Thank you for my family, my friends, and your children--and may I love you with all my strength, my mind, and my heart. In Christ's perfect name I ask, amen.