The Others really don't matter.

Survivor.
The Sixth Sense
Harry Potter.
The Superbowl.
Lost.

What do these things have in common? They are, among thousands of other addictions I have had in my life, the focus of a truth I just realized. I should have known it sooner, but it honestly just dawned on me.

I like stories.

I am not just talking about those that people tell. I am simply stating a fact that I like the idea of story. Yes, I love books. I love movies. I love television. I love talking with people. I love reading the newspaper, especially the Features. (Depending on the newspaper, of course.) I love a good story. I think that it is a God-given love; maybe in some ways, we all yearn to be connected, to tell our tale, to share in the lore of others. Maybe because we are a part of God's great story, we desire stories too.

I also have a slightly addictive personality.

I am not talking about drugs and alcohol here, but I am not sure if my addictions aren't just as dangerous. You see, I like stories so much that sometimes, I immerse myself completely within them. I get intrigued. I get sidetracked. I tell others about the story that has captured me. What captures me? The human conflict. The quest for answers. A mystery to figure out. Brilliance. Passion.

And so, I frantically planned my schedule around Thursday night television during college because I had discovered this intrigue of excitement and psychology: strangers put together in a remote area to live and compete. People laughed; I found it incredibly interesting. And so, I watch a thousand movies and always try to figure out what is going to happen. I speak my thoughts out loud so that people know I figured it out. How annoying, eh? And when a movie actually surprises me? Well, everyone must watch it for its brilliance. I start reading a book series that leaves the reader hanging on just what turn will come next. I spend time discussing its twists and trying to get in front of the mind that created a story that changed the world, in the old-fashioned kind of way: words. Or, I glue myself to the pages of ESPN reading countless articles about the men behind the team. Hoping that we have put our collective spirit behind people worth admiring. Finally, I give in once again to something I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. I sit in amazement for hours on end trying to figure out the story of the people who have created such a story.

And, that brings me to today.

You see, I started watching Lost this past summer, after a few years of ignoring all the people who told me I would love it. I know myself, I said. I will get addicted. I know I will love it. But, I gave in. Just like I did with Survivor. And with Harry Potter. I guess I really don't know myself all that well to assume that I will be able to withstand the intrigue of one more great story. I crammed two seasons in last summer, and I held off on the third. Two weeks ago, I started that. Moments ago, I finished episode 16. As the show came to a close, I was utterly AMAZED again at how brilliant it is. Personally, I think it is one of the most interesting stories ever told.

But when I took out the DVD, knowing I didn't have any more to watch today, something hit me like a ton of bricks.

Every season of Survivor (and every other show) ends; in some ways, they all end up looking the same.
JK Rowling has closed the book on Harry.
Movies aren't as special when you don't allow yourself to be surprised.
The glory of the Superbowl fades, and the next year, you might not make it back.
And, when all is said and done, there will be nothing left to figure out about the island and The Others.

These things that I invest my mind and heart into are only temporary. Do they deserve the attention they receive? I can say they don't really matter to me, but they certainly have gotten a lot of my time and energy and excitement and thoughts.

Those stories, the ones that are created by man, always come to an end, and eventually, we wait for another one to come along and carry us through more twists and turns and self-ignited excitement. There is nothing wrong with entertainment. Creativity is a gift from God. But, I don't think He wants me to push Him aside to get to everything else so easily. All those fake stories...everything else...ends.

My story continues though. So does yours.
Maybe the Author of Life would rather me give more of my heart to the Greatest Story of All.

Sadly, it is easier said than done.