I love to travel.
I don’t think I realized just how much until I returned home and became stationary for the first time in a year. It’s only been six weeks since the Race ended and I’m already itching to visit somewhere new.
From the chance encounters on a plane to the beauty and culture that accompany a change of scenery – I’m rejuvenated by it all.
This weekend, I was thrilled to be able to travel to Missouri for the first time to photograph the wedding of two of my wonderful squad-mates.
It was a wonderful weekend filled with barbecues, bon fires, good friends and lots of laughter.
But perhaps even more meaningful to me than my time spent reuniting with friends, was my time spent in conversation on the flight into Kansas City.
When I boarded the connecting flight from Minnesota to Missouri, I fully intended to sit quietly, listen to my iPod and read a book. But as I found my seat and saw the friendly face by the window smiling at me expectantly, I knew this wouldn’t be that kind of flight.
His name was David, he told me, and he was headed home to Minnesota from a week of work meetings in D.C. I could tell from his well manicured suit and the rather important looking credit card he whipped out to pay for his Blue Moon, that David was well-off.
It wasn’t long before he was telling me about the many successful car dealerships he owned and how hard he had worked to achieve what he now had.
And although the things that David talked about seemed happy enough, there was a deep sadness that lingered behind his eyes as he spoke. Almost as soon as he finished telling me of his success, he began to admit that none of it helped to fill his emptiness.
He said, “I used to think that if I could just get the business running well; if I could just get my wife into the dream house she’s always wanted; if I could accomplish these dreams that I had, I would be happy.
But now, the business is very successful and I have plenty of money, but neither of my sons want anything to do with the business that I planned to leave them as a legacy. So I’m going to have to leave it to my V.P. or some stranger and it wont even stay in my family as I intended. My wife and I finally have the house we always wanted, but we’re no more happy with it than we were when we were in our house that was half its size.
I think I’m just now starting to realize, at the age of 63, that money and material things really don’t buy happiness.”
I was so heartbroken as he opened up to me about the loss of dreams for his life. The kind he used to have and now wished he could get back. I assured him that it’s not too late to dream, but the dreams he’s been grasping at to this point have been ones that will continue to leave him empty even once they’re realized. That some of the happiest people I’ve met on this planet have been ones who have very little reason to be happy by our standards. They aren’t wealthy in a monetary way. They haven’t lived a life of privilege or means and there’s nothing to indicate that they ever will. But they know the love of God. They invest in their families and communities instead of in 401k’s. Even with no education, they somehow understand better than we do the things that bring true joy and peace.
Since returning to America, I have seen more clearly than ever that the things we are told to value – the things that the world promises will provide happiness and fulfillment – are the very things that will leave us empty, weary and jaded in the end.
David was a perfect example of someone who has spent his life chasing the wrong things and now sits alone on a plane wondering why he doesn’t feel satisfied.
At the end of our time together, I was able to share with David the truth that it’s not too late to realize new dreams for his life. That God has plans and dreams for him that are greater than he could imagine, but first he must surrender all of himself – including the resources he spent so long pursuing – and allow God to do something brand new in him. His eyes welled up as he heard that there are things more significant and of more value than simply growing his business.
As we parted at the gate, I was once again reminded of this truth for my own life.
My thoughts went to King Solomon who, by many of our standards, should have been the happiest person to ever live. He had everything by which we determine “success”. He had power and complete rule over his nation, more women that he could count, was unimaginably wealthy and to top it all off, he was the wisest man who’s ever lived.
How could a guy like that not be happy, right?
But this is the same man who went on to write the book of Ecclesiastes – an entire book which speaks solely about the meaningless of it all is and how none of it holds any real worth in the end. After experiencing all this world has to offer – more than we’ll ever experience – he still comes to the conclusion that a life lived in awe of God is the only one worth living.
The prayer I have for myself is the same one I have for you: that we will apply to our lives the lesson that Solomon – and my new friend David – had to learn the hard way. Never forgetting that what we live in pursuit of is our treasure, and where our treasure is, there our hearts are also.
I want to live my life knowing that I chose my “treasure” wisely.
