Picket Fences, Mid-Life Crises, and the American Dream

In light of my work situation, I've been rethinking my philosophy of life as it has to do with work. This is a tricky subject for me, because I myself have originated from a white, middle-class, suburban family, that is not the exact template of the American Dream, but not far removed from it either. My dad, whom I greatly respect, is to some degree a workaholic, though he has never let it remove him entirely from interaction with my family.

My question is, is the American Dream really worth it? Think for a moment with me. The white picket fence and the front porch have been replaced by hedges and fences too tall to see over and a garage door opener that makes it possible for us to drive into our house without ever having the opportunity to say hello to our neighbors. No wonder so many of them are strangers to us (how many of your neighbors do you know by name??). Longevity in one job or career has given way to a mid-life crisis which seems to be commonplace; the age of taking care of your parents and extended family has become an age of retirement homes and nursing homes, where the elderly, the wise, the experienced are separated from the rest of society as if they're actually more a burden to us than a blessing.

It gets worse. Now could be called the age of divorces and broken families; kids are babysat by TVs and video games, rather than exploring the world. Debt is even more commonplace than the mid-life crisis. With our culture's unprecedented emphasis on individuality and independence, community and interdependence is suffering. Often, the only thing people worry about is "my problems", failing to see that the biggest problems and obstacles we will face in life are always "our problems". Because if we can't learn to help each other overcome problems together, aren't we missing the whole point of what God wants life to look like?

To be blunt, I'm not intending to make any clear conclusions at this point: All I want for me -- really, for us -- is to rethink our value system. What drives how we live, in reality? If the gospel calls us to be unselfish, do our actions, our giving, our time management, really reflect it? When we break it down, who does our life speak of? Is my life doesn't shout loudly of God and Jesus, then how can I claim to be truly living for Him? What's really important to me? When God asks me to give an account of how I lived while on earth, is He going to care about salary or hours or status? Or maybe, just maybe, He'll measure my life by an entirely different standard: If I was a lover of people, and if I worked for Him and for others rather than working for myself.