A Class in Contentment
So today as I was talking with a wise woman of God, she basically said … “Soo…what you really need is to learn to be content, right?” Darn. I hate it when they say that. I hate it when they’re right. I’d rather just insist that my circumstances change. I’d rather just pray that God will go –poof!- and hand me the life of my dreams. So, in my mind I say to God, “But God, you can’t really expect me to be content right now right? I mean, I’m almost 28 years old and I’m back living with my parents and I don’t have a car and so I’m trapped out in the boonies and we don’t have an income and it rains all the time so we can’t go outside and I’ve got mommyhood and wifehood and school and being a daughter and I don’t have any friends around here and it’s all just so messed up … I can’t be content now right?” And of course … I look to God’s word and who do I have to compare myself to? Yup. Paul (Phil. 4). Of all guys, Paul. Shipwrecked, stoned, beaten, put in jail, slandered, hungry, cold, tired. Yeah—ok my little garden variety hardships would definitely fall somewhere in the Not-Very-Difficult column.
So, I take her advice and my heart says, “Ok God. Paul said we can learn to be content. I’m all about learning, right? I mean, I’m in seminary. I love to learn. So, will you help me?” So that’s what I prayed today, because I know I can’t be content without God’s help, although strangely enough even as I’m writing this somehow I’m finding myself more and more contented and my heart feels lighter already … is it supposed to begin working that fast?
Well I know it’s no magic formula, but this is my first thought on contentment: The key to contentment is … you guessed it, humility. (Humility is the key to everything by the way – I’ve already learned that if the answer’s not “Jesus!” it’s “Humility!”)
But truly, Pride says, “I deserve better than this!” Humility says, “Thank you God that I am even alive.” Pride grabs. Humility takes notice of every tiny blessing and offers prayers of gratitude to the Giver of Life. Humility breeds thankfulness and thankfulness breeds contentment. So my goal, at least until I can get a better handle on this stuff, is to focus on thankfulness and contentment for a while on this here blog. I’m not trying to be any less “real” than before, I’m just trying to train my heart to see with eyes of love.
Tonight I’m truly, genuinely grateful for a delicious dinner that my mom made—the beef stroganoff was incredible, and I’m thankful for the four chocolate cookies that I sneaked from my dad’s snack cupboard (he sneaks my treats too so it’s fair!). Neither the dinner nor the cookies would have been available to me unless we lived here! I’m thankful for the rainless day that enabled me to take Dutch for a walk; we were able to see the river, a new little pony at the neighbor’s house, and a dead mouse on the road that provided fascination for Dutch. I’m thankful for a great talk Jeff and I had tonight, where we were really able to connect and be in agreement on where God has us and determine together to rejoice and praise God for where he has us. I’m so thankful for Foothills, a truly God-centered, God-loving church with leaders and staff who love us and welcome us accept us just as we are. I’m thankful for Lorrie, who has met with me and counseled me and loved me and listened to me so much. I’m thankful for her wisdom and insight, her truth and love and support. I’m thankful for a week off school next week! And I’m thankful that in one month SPRING will be here! Ok, off for now … I’d love to hear from you if you have any insights or wisdom or advice on contentment. Or if you’ve arrived and are the authority on the subject, let me know. 😉
Why I love my Mom
I love my mom. Today as I came home from class, I was (surprise!) discouraged beyond description. Again. Why is this? Why can I not seem to shake this discouragement, this despondency? I was told the secret today: contentment. I know it is true. But that is another topic and one I’m not brave enough to face yet. For right now, let me tell you about my mom.
It occurred to me today, as I came in from class and found her sitting at the computer, working on something or other. She had spent the morning at open prayer, a prayer time at our church where people are free to meet and pray for the needs of the body and city. Then she ran errands, got groceries, and now was thawing meat for dinner (beef stroganoff which is what I overheard my dad requesting this morning). She didn’t hear me come in, so it wasn’t until I had mixed up my hot chocolate, thrown a yam in the oven to bake, and sat down by the fire behind her that she turned and greeted me, as she always does, with a smile. She could read my face immediately that I was discouraged and her face turned downward with mine. “I’m ok,” I assured her and gave her a “thanks” smile, then sipped my hot drink. “How was your morning?” I asked. She said what she’d done. “Who was at prayer?” I asked, even though I didn’t have to because I already knew. It was she, Muriel, and Dave. The famous three, I call them. Because, you see, they are always the ones at prayer. Always. And even though no one knows they pray, and even though hardly ever does anyone else join them, they always pray.
The reason all this stands out today is that my mom would never write a blog about how she feels swallowed up. Why? She’s already been swallowed up. My mom has been swallowed up in Christ. Her life is hidden with Christ in God. She’s not searching for herself because she’s already been found – once and for all.
This plays out in very tangible ways. My mom is the best listener I have ever met. I have never heard her interrupt anyone—ever—in my entire life. I have never heard her demand her rights, never heard her complain about her lot in life. Not that she has no feelings or desires, that’s not it. But she’s been swallowed up—my mom’s life is hidden with Christ in God.
This amazing character trait of hers used to bother me. In high school I thought she was weak. I thought a real woman would assert herself, stick up for herself, demand her rights, right? I real woman would say, “Get your own darn sandwich!” But no, she looks those real women in the eye and says, there’s a better way.
This doesn’t mean she doesn’t get sad. My mom is currently facing profound sorrow and grief. She’s battling a debilitating disease (bravely I might add!). She’s coping with the proximal “loss” of her son and daughter-in-law and granddaughter, which is magnified because of the physical limitations she’s facing. And, on top of all that, she has to deal with her opinionated and profoundly emotional daughter living in her house, cluttering her countertops and criticizing her organizational skills. (I know, the third trumps them all, huh?!) But she has taken all three of these things in admirable stride. She’s grieving, she’s weakened, she’s affected, but she is not shaken. This is because she has been crucified with Christ, and the life she now lives in the body she lives by faith in the Son of God who loved her and gave Himself for her. And she really does this, she doesn’t just spout off a verse about it.
So, all this to say that I am touched and humbled and blessed by my mom. The focus has been on me and poor me and oh how hard this season has been for me. But the truth is that my mom is battling things far more difficult than I ever have, and she calmly, contently, and serenely goes about her day, grocery shopping for beef stroganoff and meeting with her faithful three prayer warriors, serving behind the scenes for the sake of others. Thanks, Mom, for the way that you teach me so profoundly. Thanks, Mom, for putting up with me. You’re an inspiration. Why can’t I be more like you?! J