On Christmas morning, 1964, I assembled a nine-year old’s dream gift: a genuine Santa Fe Railroad miniature train set, complete with battery-powered engine and flashing crossing lights. I placed the locomotive on the tracks and watched in sheer glee as three pounds of pure steel wound its way across my bedroom floor. Around and around and around and…around…and around…. “Mom, what else did you get me for Christmas?”
Similarly, our lives chug in long ovals, one lap after another. First job. Promotion. Wedding days. Nursery beds. Kids. Grandkids. Around and around…. Is there anything else? Our dissatisfaction mates with disappointment and gives birth to some unruly children: drunkenness, power plays, eighty-hour work weeks, nose dives into sexual perversions – all nothing more than poorly disguised longings for Eden.