It is a ritual that we go through every year.
“Wayne, what do you want for Christmas?”, I ask.
“Not a thing”, he answers, “I can’t think of one thing I need.”
He is the most contented man I know, and he has been teaching me the art of contentment for the last twenty years. Contentment has always been hard for me. Is it because I grew up poor by some standards? Or am I just greedy by nature? Either way, I have struggled in years past with complete contentment.
What I have come to learn is that contentment has very little to do with money or the things it can buy. I could expound with a theological answer about the benefits of godliness contentment brings, but since I myself have struggled with the “have-nots” I won’t pretend to have mastered great spiritual wisdom.
Instead I’ll tell you what I know about contentment
I’m most content when I am still. It’s the quiet times on my porch, sipping my coffee that I find contentment.
It’s remembering a song from when I was a child and humming it as I drive to work.
I am most content when I fix a simple supper and share it with my husband and child.
When I have run until I am dripping with sweat and realize that it’s beginning a soft misty rain, I find myself wanting nothing much more than a hot shower.
I am finding that when I use it up, wear it out, make it last, and give in secret I am most content. I am finding the difference between “doing without” and “not needing it anyways”. The less I think I need, the greater my satisfaction with where I am.
There will always be greed inside my soul, and when I feed it grows.
God, help my only discontent to be that I want You more. Help me to desire You far more than Your gifts. It’s then that I find I have everything I need.