On Contentment

I'm not inclined to be content. I mean, I'm a human. But even more than just a shared aspect of my species, I am particularly inclined to want. I'd say my husband can be inclined to be too content (and so would he; I'm not tattling), comfortable with the way things are as long as they're not bad. But I'm NEVER content when I'm not actively abiding in the Lord. I always want things to be better, or sometimes even just different.

So it was exciting to me when, in passing a recent-model Volvo sedan, I realized I no longer wanted a Volvo. I could not have said that two years ago. I wanted one; I'd pine every time I saw one. They're pretty and sturdy and dependable and nice. Man, what a work of the Lord that I don't anymore! I'm content with our car-and-a-half (it's half a car; trust me). They work well enough to be legal and not leave us stranded.

Well, our nicer car sometimes locks itself when you try to open the driver door, which locked Ezra inside the car twice this summer before I finally stuck the habit of always ALWAYS having another door open before I open the driver door. As I was waiting for the people-who-charge-you-60-bucks-to-unlock-a-door, there was a young girl and her grandmother waiting in the car next to me. The little girl asked (several minutes into our conversation), "why don't you just get a new car?" I was nice enough to say, "Well, we're saving our money to adopt our next child from Africa" but I really wanted to just say "We can't afford a nicer car, and that's okay." But I'm not her parent (or grandparent). We could not possibly afford a new or used Volvo, and it's okay with me. I'm content with what we've been given, and it's absolutely enough.

In case you ever wonder if christians' lives are changed, or what the Holy Spirit does, it can be things as small and monumental as this. I haven't been "working on" being content; I've been being worked on!