Kravings

There is one Krispy Kreme Donut place in the whole state of Arizona right now. A few years ago there were a number of them, including the first one I found a whole lotta years ago in Tempe. It was a real treat to go that far for a dozen donuts, but when the Krispy Kreme kraving hits, there's only two things to do --- wait it out or get in the truck. Once a year or so we bit the bullet and got in the vehicle (which was a car at that time).

Those were the days. Now there is only one and it is a whole lotta miles away. Good ol' Mapquest tells me that the most direct route between here and there will add just under 41 miles to my truck (one way) and cost me $5.81, again only one way. Double that and it would put 82 miles on the tires and subtract $11.62 from my wallet for gas. And this is before I even pay for the donuts, which aren't cheap (but oh, so good!). Are the kravings worth the expenditure?

Cravings are often very uncomfortable things. Ask anybody who's seriously trying to quit smoking, or giving up something that they enjoy but, for whatever reason, they have to give up. When I quit smoking (cold turkey -- couldn't afford the cigs much less the patches, pills or hypnosis!), it took me over three years to stop really craving the things. I'm glad I don't have to go through that again. But there are other things that I crave, things I know I can't have or attain, and those things get to be like an itch that can't be scratched. Must be nice to be a cat -- there are very few places that can't be reached when you're that flexible.

Some folks' craving, though, could be considered meritorious in a lot of circles. Those who crave the experience of God, the immediacy of God, the desire to submerge oneself in God, are usually willing to go the extra miles or pay the extra price. The saints did it, most of them, anyway, and the result was, well, sainthood. They were still human, still had human foibles, failings and cravings, but they also had a tether that let them wander a bit but still kept them attached to God in a way that most folks weren't. The church often wants to remember the tether without acknowledging the foibles that made the tether more necessary. Jesus had a very direct connection with God, but he didn't need a tether, just a communications line like a phone cord or even wireless. That worked for him but for most of us, it wouldn't be nearly enough. Like a boat bobbing in hurricane-turbulent waters, people like me need extra tethers, extra-strong ropes and secure cleats and bollards to keep us from breaking loose and being smashed on the rocks or tossed far up on the shore. My tether must be the size of the mooring ropes of the Queen Mary; they have to be, even though in terms of boat size, I'm probably about the size of a kayak.

Still, the tether is there. Sometimes it chafes, sometimes it is comforting, sometimes I don't even notice it is there at all. Funny thing about that tether, it's always there; it's just my perception of it that changes. If I crave the experience of God, the tether will be a reminder that it's as close as I want it to be and as strong as I am willing to work toward it. It's a craving I can give in to without qualm. The hard part is just giving in to it and doing something about it. Is it a cost I am willing to accept?

As for the Krispy Kreme kraving, I have faith that one day there will be a Krispy Kreme near enough for me to indulge, but not now. The cost is just too high.