We all have cravings.
I crave assurance. Assurance that at the end of all this financial partnership-building I'm doing, I'll actually reach my financial support goal and be able to do the work I've stepped out in faith to do. I crave assurance that that will take place before coming to the point of giving up a year from now (although it's likely I wouldn't). I crave assurance, basically, that I won't fail. That God really is in control of this whole thing. Honest, isn't it?
That's not the only thing I crave. At times in my life, I have craved companionship. I've craved purpose. I've craved activity, food, rest, entertainment, root beer, love, and even just to be liked.
I sat down inside Tim Horton's with my small French Vanilla and Boston Cream doughnut and started reading 1 Corinthians chapter 1 as I waited for my friend Jordan to arrive. It was a pretty typical morning at Tim's. Some parents and their kids were having a grand old time at a table behind me. That is, until three older ladies who were seated nearby decided they couldn't hear themselves because of all the noise those kids were making. So one of the ladies decided to kindly turn around and remark "Take those poor kids home!"
Thankfully, the parents were far too jubilant in their celebrating to take serious offense. They mostly laughed and kept celebrating, while the comment was only met with a slightly disbelieving "Are you serious?" from one of the dads.
The three older ladies were quick to reinforce the fact that they were indeed serious.