(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.

I was driving home from a very stressful day at work and the thought came into my head, “Sometimes my job is not satisfying.” I say ’sometimes’ because most of the time, it is rewarding. Fix something that was broken, turn frowns into smiles, put in your two cents so the store can make a billion… yeah, that makes for a decent job. But sometimes I can’t fix a problem, sometimes I see too many unhappy people, and sometimes try as I might, I can’t sell my two cents.

The retail business is a crazy machine. It’s a machine that ultimately lives off of numbers. I’m often convinced that the machine is actually a monster, and one that eats two things: money and people. You’ve got this crazy word called “budget” and some dude somewhere devised a formula that probably goes something like this: $ + $$ = $$$. Or, in simpler terms, “make more money.” I think the customers become side orders. I think sometimes the customer interaction is simply something that we can feel good about after making a sell. What are we really happy about? The fact that we just offered a customer the complete solution or the fact that we got a pretty penny (or a grand) from their pockets? Is there such a thing as a retail business that is customer-driven? I mean, a business that measures good business through the amount of happy people walking out of the door instead of how much money we got from the people walking out of the door? Do happy customers necessarily mean amazing numbers every day?

That’s the pickle I am forced to eat each day I’m at work. I used to be convicted about my job. Well, okay, I mean I used to be extremely convicted about my job. But then I remember I live in the United States of America. Land of the free, yes, but there are costs to living here. Don’t get me wrong, I value my job, but really… is it necessary to charge what we do? Who decided that coffee would be five bucks a cup, a movie in a movie theater is nine bucks, and fixing a computer would be three hundred bucks? Actually, who decided that we need coffee, movies, or computers?

When I get like this, I think of Africa. I think of some foreign land that I see only on television with those hungry kids with those big eyes. Those big haunting eyes that ask me if I’m having a good time watching them through my 36″ flat screen TV. I wonder if I would get satisfaction from moving to Africa and simply living a life that was totally dependent on God. Somehow I would spread the Word, feed the hungry, and make a difference while somehow managing to find a roof to live under and food to feed myself. I can only imagine how crazy people would think I was if I just up and left with what little money I had. But would it be satisfying? I can’t imagine helping others in their prime level of need to be unsatisfying. “Oh man, another day in the office. I helped feed another hungry mouth, built another house for a family, and witnessed a few people turn their lives to Jesus. It’s days like these that make me wish I had another job.”

I don’t know. I’m an American. Americans don’t just skip out on their country, leaving their families and money and gadgets behind for a country full of strangers that can’t even speak English. But what if I abandoned my self-absorption and wavering faith for my God and did exactly that? Or, even crazier, what if ten of us did so? Ten hundred? Ten thousand?

Oh, these crazy thoughts I think when I really need to go to bed.