Each of us has a setting in which contentment pays a visit–early in the morning while everyone is asleep; on the porch as the children or grandchildren romp and play enthusiastically under a warm September sun; in the arms of a spouse; at a Christmas dinner with loved ones; in the comradeship of a well-worn, dog-eared, even tear-stained Bible; late at night when a hectic day is history.
Ahhh … an hour of contentment. An hour when deadlines are disregarded and strivings have ended. When fourteen-hour days and sleepless nights are a thing of the past. When unanswered calls are of little importance. When unbalanced checkbooks hold no cause for dismay. When what we have is more important than what we want.
Unfortunately, in our squirrel cages of maddening schedules and overpowering commitments, hours like these are rare. We’re too busy to be content, which is strange (isn’t it?), since the reason we kill ourselves today is because we think it will make us content tomorrow!
“Not now, thank you. Can’t you see how busy I am?” “Can’t you understand the pressures under which I struggle?” we say. “Too many goals to be reached. Too many schedules to be met. Too many dollars to be saved. Too many achievements to be attained. Too many ‘things’ to be bought. Too many promotions to be earned. And besides, if I’m content, people will think I’ve lost my ambition. Quite frankly, I’m proud of my headaches and ulcers!”
The tasks? They’ll get done. The calls? They’ll get made. The unbalanced checkbook? It’ll get reconciled. The letters? They’ll be written. The promotions? They’ll come.
Indeed, contentment is a rare commodity in these final years of the century. ‘”There is great gain in godliness with contentment,” wrote the Apostle (1 Timothy 6:6/RSV), but many of us have not learned the lesson, nor have we experienced its reality.
November/December 1988