Finding Nemo

“I said to myself, ‘Come now, I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good.’ But that also proved to be meaningless.”
-Ecclesiastes 2:1-

When my kids were little, they wanted a pet. I agreed, but there were a few conditions. The pet had to be something that didn’t bark, meow, or make any kind of noise. It couldn’t shed any kind of fur or hair. And the pet had to cost less than $5. Within those limitations, we settled on a goldfish.
At the store, there was a sign on the fish tank that said a “three day guarantee, no questions asked.” To me, this seemed like a safe policy and even good stewardship, not an omen.
The kids named the fish — wait for it — Nemo! They wanted to play with their new pet, but how do you play with a fish? You can’t take it for a walk or teach it to fetch. But you can take it swimming. So we went out to the pool. I explained to the kids that the chemicals in the pool would not be good for a fish, so we brought Nemo in a glass cup filled with water and set the cup on the edge of the pool (so he could see). While we were splashing in the pool, I noticed that Nemo was watching us. I figured he wanted to get out of the cup and into the vast ocean that the pool must have looked to him.
After a few minutes, I looked over again to check on Nemo, but the cup was empty. Apparently, the lure of freedom was so strong that Nemo had flip-flopped out of the cup and into the pool. I tried to catch him, but catching a goldfish in a swimming pool is more difficult than you might think. Eventually, though, Nemo rose to the surface, belly up. The kids were upset, but I reminded them of the 3 day guarantee and they were happier.
Nemo might have been having the time of his life, but what he didn’t know was that what promised pleasure was really bringing poison. When pleasure becomes our primary pursuit, it delivers the opposite of what it promises. Pleasure has this unique trait: The more intensely you chase it, the less likely you are to catch it. Philosophers call this the “hedonistic paradox.” The idea is that pleasure, pursued for its own sake, evaporates before our very eyes.
Jesus painted this sharp contrast: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). Here is the powerful truth I hope you discover: When we worship God by denying ourselves, we experience what we were really wanting all along — deep and ultimate pleasure.

DENYING TODAY
Think for a moment about the pain that pursuing pleasure has brought you. Write down a time (or times) when the pursuit simply didn’t deliver what it had promised. We are told to count the cost of following Jesus, but for a few minutes, consider the cost of pursuing pleasure instead.