Empty Idols

Over the last few weeks I've been doing more and more time-wasting activities. I like to call them "relaxing entertainment". What this entertainment ultimately produces in me is two things, an increased desire for junk food (of which I have little to begin with), and a progressively decreasing interest in anything productive (ie. worthwhile or life giving). I even become less interested in getting out and interacting with real people!
I see this happening, and I notice myself moving deeper and deeper into this lifeless void; this idol I have established in my own home. Yet it seems so harmless. I do my work, so don't I deserve this little treat? It's my time to use how I wish. At least I'm not pursuing any gross immorality.
And so, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day I draw closer to the altar I have built with my own hands, and I sacrifice my life--giving my very soul to this powerless god.
What, you might ask, is my reward for such devotion? Perhaps a few good laughs and a couple stories to share. More likely, a few pounds gained (though most people seem to think I could do with a few more pounds), a growing distaste for sweets, and an increasing resentment toward myself.
In the few moments I manage to pull myself away from the altar I am able to see just how much I am wasting my life and recognize the fact that I am simply trying to fill an inner void. I am thirsty; parched to the point of dehydration and desperation. In my thirst I am turning to a broken cistern; a cracked vessel to retrieve from it the last remaining drops of water...and those drops are salty. Driven by my growing desire for satisfaction and fulfillment, I continue to use the same broken glass to bring what liquid I can to my emotionally emaciated body.
I see this happening, and I grow sick of myself.
Of course I have an overabundance of good excuses. My personal favorite is the most simple, "I can do that other stuff later. It doesn't have to be done right now. Just a little bit more entertainment and then I'll get back to work." That is precisely how I seal the deal. As soon as I have subtly suggested the idea that whatever else I might have in mind to do is "work", I have a reason not to do it. "I work all day. I should take a break from all that work in the evenings and on the weekends. Don't I do enough as it is? I deserve this." And as simple as that, I am sold. Back to the altar I go to have my life siphoned like a gas tank.
Because that is really how I feel when I finally pull myself away. Rather than feeling rested and prepared to take on whatever the world is aiming to throw at me, I feel even more drained and weary than I was before approaching the altar.
Only just this afternoon did I finally come to a point in my deprivation that I was able to see what I was doing for what it truly was--a vain attempt at filling my own emptiness with a big, shiny jar of nothing. That realization has made all the difference in just a few hours. The result has been quite enjoyable and something I can look back on and say, "well done, Michael. I am much more proud to be you now than I was at the beginning of the day."
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go approach the altar of the one true God where I know he holds an extra measure of grace for those who humbly come to him in their brokenness. And where I am promised to find a fountain of living water to quench my thirst and satisfy my soul.