I Can't Get No Satisfaction

Seasons. 

I don't like them.

I don't like that there are four, rather than one.

Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter are never long enough. 

It seems that they come and go in the blink of an eye.

Just as I transition from one to the next, it changes again.

As soon as I accept the change and want it to stay, it changes again.

And frankly, I'm sick of it. 

Not sick of the change in seasons, necessarily, but sick of the fact that I can't be satisfied.

It snowed all night and it's still snowing this morning. And it seems like just a week ago that the leaves were falling off the trees. I didn't get enough time to step on all the crunchy leaves. I didn't wear all my cute sweaters before I had to break out the big coats. I haven't had enough of the warm sunshine. There was hardly a transition or warning before everything slowly dying and changing, died and changed. 

And as I was thinking about it this morning, I realized I am never satisfied. I have a fatal condition, called Humanity, possibly Immaturity, where I can't get enough. I long for everything temporary to be everlasting. When I experience something good, I want to keep experiencing it. I foolishly chase after the selfish desires of my fleshly heart only to be left wanting more all over again. 

The seasons mirror our lives. Because of the natural laws of the universe, things change. Nothing ever stays the same. Seasons as fulfilling as Spring, Summer, and Fall, will always fade into Winter. Most of the time abruptly, without time for transition. Without warning or caution. 

No good thing lasts forever. And that's just something I'm going to have to learn to accept. Get as warm as I can during the Summer so the Winter doesn't seem so cold. 

But still, I'm pouring unsatisfactory water into a bottomless cup. I know it's bottomless, yet I still pour and try to fill it with this water that has no everlasting value. 

I know it's cliche', but I'm gonna say it. People search their whole lives to find that one thing they have yet to find. 

There has to be something that will satisfy, so they search only to become more lost. 

They drink, often and much, only to become more thirsty. 

They think they've found it, but the winds shift and suddenly it's buried under layers upon layers of snow. 

To me, the answer it obvious: 

 If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.   C.S. Lewis