More on Contentment
Don't store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will be also.
-Matthew 6:19-21 NLT
In the book Always There, a mom writes about how she had to move from the familiar comforts of family and her home state to support her husband's new job and further education. They ended up in a small apartment in a not so great area . There was an old dusty playground in front of their apartment. The disappointment was heightened after a series of financial setbacks meant they had to spend two more years than they had planned in this situation.
She writes about how she resented having "to change everything not only to become financially sound again, but just to make ends meet." She did not hide her bitterness from her husband and a few close friends.
But then she writes about how "God began to chip away at (her expectations)."
She writes, "The spacious house I imagined became a memory. We had to store most of our belongings, including a different season's wardrobe. We nixed eating out - unless we had a coupon - nearly altogether.
We removed cable and cut our grocery bill. A taxing purchase was a new pair of shoes for my husband, who walked to the bus and took that to work, since we had only one car. It wasn't uncommon to go a week teetering on the edge of overdraft fees with ten dollars in the bank.
Entertainment consisted of walking to 7-Eleven to split a Slurpee then going home so our son could play on that playground - oblivious that anything might be missing. Creative experiences and learning opportunities came in all forms and at little or no cost, a lesson I hope to remember on this parenting journey.
Gradually, God took my scripted, preconceived notions about the 'good life' and morphed them into his own act. I learned paying bills and being responsible with money was worth more than showing friends a nice, large home (even when our newborn daughter had to share a bedroom with her big brother). Date night could be just as romantic by swapping kids with another family and eating somewhere cheap. Family fun didn't have to be a day at a theme park, but going to a free festival and then eating dinner at Costco for six dollars.
In a few months, God not only changed my perspective on needs versus wants, but as my wants dissipated and my needs were satisfied, I appreciated the transition instead of feeling embarrassed and sorry for myself.
The last summer there, I set my lawn chair in front of our apartment, directly across from the playground, and soaked in the sun while my kids giggled and slid down the dusty slide. God forced me to lay down the happiness I sought in exchange for an entirely different kind. He illuminated what was always in front of me: the playground wasn't a sign of oppression but of opportunity. Giving up what I wanted didn't mean going without what I truly needed."
-"Playground Rules" by Nicole Russell; Always There by Susan Besze Wallace; pages 64-66
-Matthew 6:19-21 NLT
In the book Always There, a mom writes about how she had to move from the familiar comforts of family and her home state to support her husband's new job and further education. They ended up in a small apartment in a not so great area . There was an old dusty playground in front of their apartment. The disappointment was heightened after a series of financial setbacks meant they had to spend two more years than they had planned in this situation.
She writes about how she resented having "to change everything not only to become financially sound again, but just to make ends meet." She did not hide her bitterness from her husband and a few close friends.
But then she writes about how "God began to chip away at (her expectations)."
She writes, "The spacious house I imagined became a memory. We had to store most of our belongings, including a different season's wardrobe. We nixed eating out - unless we had a coupon - nearly altogether.
We removed cable and cut our grocery bill. A taxing purchase was a new pair of shoes for my husband, who walked to the bus and took that to work, since we had only one car. It wasn't uncommon to go a week teetering on the edge of overdraft fees with ten dollars in the bank.
Entertainment consisted of walking to 7-Eleven to split a Slurpee then going home so our son could play on that playground - oblivious that anything might be missing. Creative experiences and learning opportunities came in all forms and at little or no cost, a lesson I hope to remember on this parenting journey.
Gradually, God took my scripted, preconceived notions about the 'good life' and morphed them into his own act. I learned paying bills and being responsible with money was worth more than showing friends a nice, large home (even when our newborn daughter had to share a bedroom with her big brother). Date night could be just as romantic by swapping kids with another family and eating somewhere cheap. Family fun didn't have to be a day at a theme park, but going to a free festival and then eating dinner at Costco for six dollars.
In a few months, God not only changed my perspective on needs versus wants, but as my wants dissipated and my needs were satisfied, I appreciated the transition instead of feeling embarrassed and sorry for myself.
The last summer there, I set my lawn chair in front of our apartment, directly across from the playground, and soaked in the sun while my kids giggled and slid down the dusty slide. God forced me to lay down the happiness I sought in exchange for an entirely different kind. He illuminated what was always in front of me: the playground wasn't a sign of oppression but of opportunity. Giving up what I wanted didn't mean going without what I truly needed."
-"Playground Rules" by Nicole Russell; Always There by Susan Besze Wallace; pages 64-66
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