A question worth asking?

 "What do you want?"

I've wrestled over this question more than most. For years I spent time trying to answer the question, but as I've grown a little older, and hopefully a little wiser, I've thought more about whether that question matters whatsoever. It is very egocentric, in the grand scheme of things.

A soldier in war cannot spend time on that questions. It matters not.

The truly poor of our world needn't bother with this question in the midst of their struggle to survive. It matters not.

There are many, a majority, in our world who spend little time on a question such as this. It matters not.

But I still think about this question. Not just the answer, but the worthiness of this question as it stands. I think about the Garden of Eden and the purity of freedom that existed there. This question mattered there, and for a man named Adam and a woman named Eve. This question was unadulterated by sin or compulsion. They chose, at least for a time, that what mattered was choosing what was truly good. They listened to God, at least for a time, we don't know for how long. They tasted of good things, meaningful work, relationship with one another in holiness and relationship with God in all its brightness.

And then they chose to answer the question differently. What do I want? I want what I want. They cried out as a child cries "Mine!" They had heard what God had declared to be good. But no matter. They would now decide for themselves. They would answer this question with every bit of rebellion and selfishness that they could muster. 

They took the fruit. They bit into it. They chose.

This question was since been clouded. I believe that it was meant to be answered by each of us, as we stand facing God. But it is clouded now. Adam and Eve, in truth, answered this question for us all (though I, doubtlessly, would answer it the same way). What is the problem of pain in the world? Humanity. What is wrong with the world? G.K. Chesterton decided to answer this question frankly, by responding: "I am, yours truly, G.K. Chesteron"

What do I want? Less of my way, and more of the Lord's. 

Chris Rice wonders aloud in one of his melodies that perhaps: "Freedom from myself will be the sweetest rest I've ever known."

How do you feel about this question? How much of our life should we spend pondering such things?