Reality or Fantasy?

It's amazing where we find ourselves at times. Somehow, in the best moments of our lives, it seems that things have the inexplicable ability to turn for the worst. Our hearts rise on the wings of hope only to be shattered by the realization of harsh reality. My friends, life is not pretty. Sometimes we see a glimmer of hope in the sunrise or in the love of another, but all we have to do is look at the shores of our once gorgeous beaches or the prevalence of one-night-stands, divorces, and broken homes in this world to realize that our hopes are in shallow realities.

We live for fantasies.

I was watching this debate a couple days ago between one of the porn industry's biggest stars, Ron Jeremy, starring in over 3000 adult films, and the self proclaimed porn-pastor from xxxchurch.com. I have to admit, I learned a lot from watching these two. To me, it was obvious who made the better argument in the debate, but there was a lot to learn from both sides. The main thing I got is the fact that our culture lives for fantasy. We love to watch action flicks, to play games like lazer tag, and to look at porn, all of which involve us envisioning ourselves doing something that doesn't exist.

From sex, to drugs, to money, it's all about fantasies. Fantasies of the perfect love-life or reputation, the perfect feeling, or the ability to buy anything. It's all about finding pleasure. And yet... no matter what we do, it evades us.

Reality. What is it about this thing that we so long to avoid? Do we really get so much pleasure from fantasies that is better than real life? Or is it, rather, that we are so depressed by what we see in this world, that we have to find an escape just to keep on living?

Honestly, I have a hard time putting any kind of faith in people anymore. I'm beginning to see that people will always disappoint, always lie, and always hide their true essence, who they really are when nobody is looking. I don't know who to trust anymore, except for those who I have shared life with, and even some of those have turned on me for a lie. My heart aches for the ones who are alive in their fantasies, but dead in reality--the ones who drink, do drugs, have sex, and work themselves to the bone because if they don't, life would be a waste or simply meaningless.

There is more to this life than what we know, more than what we see, and more than what we can conceive. Our hearts lead us to believe and tell us that we are more than merely highly-evolved forms of the apes. We are more, and our essence is more than that of the apes. Our purpose is more. But what is our purpose?

Is the fact that we spend so much time in our fantasies a symptom of a lack of understanding of our true meaning and purpose in this life? Or is it something else?

Here's an interesting thought. Take a moment, think about the time when you were most happy. Not the time where you were extremely happy, and it ended up being a lie or a falsehood, such as a cheating gf/bf or a divorce, but when you were truly happy and felt that nothing was wrong in the world? What made that so precious to you? Maybe, in that moment, you can begin to understand what we were made to feel. Who we were made to be. And the reality that transcends this place and our fantasies.

Do we really want to live in a lie? Or do we want to live beyond the depravity of our humanity?