Contentment Conshmentment

I looked through many quotes on contentment to begin this post.  There were several good ones made by great people: Abraham Lincoln, Mother Teresa, Henry David Thoreau, but none of them worked. So I decided that I should start this post not with a quote, but instead with trying to explain the feeling that rises up in my heart as I read these proverbs for the soul. 
 

There are quotes about being happy with what you have, or that contentment is a choice, or if you aren’t content now you never will be.  I am reading all of these sweeping words of wisdom and after each one I am tempted to make fart noises with my mouth. (That sentence is going to come back to get me when I apply to be the next Beth Moore.) 

I find that my reaction is like a bitter child.  With every statement encouraging me to “rest in my circumstances” my response is “NO! I don’t wanna.” **pout** 

I don’t want to be content.  That’s a hard sentence to write but it’s the truth.  

You have heard me mention the illness of a loved one.  Well it’s my husband, and I don’t want to be content with a life where my husband never gets well.

My husband is a fantastic man who suffers with a chronic illness called chronic fatigue syndrome.  I don’t want to necessarily go into detail about his illness, but let’s just say we have good days and bad.  

He has been sick for a very long time, and Chronic Fatigue, unlike cancer or diabetes, doesn’t really have answers, course of treatment, or real community.  And the little of those things it does have varies from person to person   I am by no means belittling cancer and diabetes. I am just stating that due to the nature of my husband’s illness we can often feel misunderstood and alone. 

This is a common feeling for people who deal with long term illness, whose diagnosis is vague. You feel your doctors do not understand because if they did they’d find some way to help you.  Because what you have doesn’t have a name or at least a name that is readily recognizable, you feel as if you are continually explaining what you have to others and that they never really quite get it. (Though not for their lack of trying.)  And because you’ve asked for healing and it hasn’t yet come, it can feel, some days, that the Lord doesn’t hear you either.  

So as I wade through this long term trial I am faced with question of contentment. And my response is the same childlike answer, “No. I don’t wanna.”  

Here is my main issue: I want God to make my husband better.  And somehow being content feels like settling for some sort of lesser life.  If I’m content with this life, I’ll never get a different one.  If I’m content with vanilla, who would ever give me chocolate?  I feel that somehow I need to hold the line of protest.  Because if I say this is ok, then God will never rescue me…us. Because that is how life and prayer works: I will just hold God hostage with my disdain. 

Contentment feels like masking a symptom.  How will I convince God I’m in pain unless I wince?

I think my real problem with contentment is that it feels like lying.  It feels like saying “I’m ok.” when I’m not.  It sounds like hollow smiles and qualified statements.  “Yes my husband was shot, but the play had some good moments.”

And more than saying “I’m ok.” out loud, contentment feels like looking at a situation that is hard and painful and saying that is ok or not a problem.  

Instead of pretending, I just want to pause a moment to grieve.  What my family deals with is hard.  And I am not ok with it. Though just as soon as I write that sentence I immediately follow up in my head with “No, I’m ok! I’m ok!”

I suppose I just don’t want to have to “be ok” all the time.  I want to break for a moment.  I want to be weak and weepy for a moment.  I want to put away my brave face for a moment

I want to, in that moment, ask God “Why?”  “Why won’t You fix him?”  Because even though I might make up reasons for my friends in order to make myself seem spiritual and wise, I still can’t see why God doesn’t heal my husband. So I ask God, “Is it ok to ask You why?  You’re my God, aren’t You?  You tell me to come to You boldly, right?  I’ve prayed to You and sung to You since I was a child.  You’ve held my hand and held me together more times than I can count.  I have wept on Your lap.  You’ve seen the real unpolished me, so I can’t lie to You: I don’t see You in this.  I don’t understand You here.  We’re broken.  Don’t you see?  Are You listening?”

And then I duck because this is when I expect God to smite me.  I always expect the “Where were you when I formed the world?” speech from Job.  What more often happens, though, is the baked bread and still small voice from Elijah (1 Kings 19:2-12), or the 70 helpers that the Lord gave to Moses in response to his desperate prayer (Numbers 11:10-29). Because my dear sweet Lord is always gracious with the question of “Why?” He hears the wounds louder than the words.

So I went to His word with my contentment problem, and the spirit led me to Philippians 4:12:  

“I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.”

I read this and thought “Wait, what’s the secret?  Is he gonna tell us the secret?”  And the next verse is Philippians 4:13: 

 “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”

All these years I felt like contentment was a mask that I put on, a way of phrasing my situation. Someone asks how I am doing, and if I’m “being content” I won’t complain too much, or if I do I’ll follow it up with a few statements of how we have a lot to be thankful for or that catch-all “God is good.”  So I don’t sound too broken or too needy.  Or if a sad situation arises or a sad thought pops into my head, then contentment is to say “Never mind, I’m ok.”

But this is all wrong.  Contentment boils down to two words:  God help.

God doesn’t mind if I am broken or needy. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says,

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weakness, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

Contentment is not lying about my situation, but being painfully honest about my situation to myself and to my God.  It is to realize my need, where I stop, where I cannot press forward, and to commit that to the Lord.  It’s not taking a sad thought of my situation and saying, “I’ll push that out of my head. I’m ok.”  It’s turning those sad thoughts to prayers and saying, “I hurt, help.”  “I ache, Lord.” “I need you.”

 So what do I do with the feeling that I need to convince God of my grief? The story of Hagar reminds me that the Lord needs no convincing.

When Abraham’s slave wife Hagar conceived his child, she incurred the jealousy of his rightful wife Sarah.  Because Sarah made her life miserable, Hagar took her son and ran away into the wilderness.  Needless to say things were pretty rough in the wilderness, and Hagar feared that her son will die. When she was at her lowest an Angel of the Lord came to her and gently asked her where she was going.  This scene always reminds me of a police officer who, when seeing a little kid on the side of the road with a suitcase, sits down next to him on the curb and says, “Where ya going, Buddy?”

“And He said, ‘Hagar, servant of Sarah, where have you come from and where are you going?’”  (Genesis 16:8)

She tells the Lord her woes and He tells her that her son will live and become a mighty man and that she should go back to Abraham’s home.  And then Hagar utters my favorite name for the Lord. 

“So called the name of the Lord who spoke to her ‘You are the God of seeing’ for she said, ‘Truly here I have seen Him who looks after me.  Therefore, the well was called Beer-lahai-roi’ (translated the well of the Living One who sees me).”(Genesis 16:13 -14a) 

I don’t need to wince or grumble or shake my fist because I serve the Living One who sees me. No one, and I mean no one, knows how I hurt better than He does. He sees. He sees.

Up above, I also mentioned how I often feel that if I don’t complain about vanilla, then why would anyone ever give me chocolate?  But instead the Bible asks, “What earthly father would give his child a stone when he asks for bread?”  This passage goes on to say “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!” (Matthew 7:11)

James 1:17 also echoes this idea: 

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

The Lord is good.  I know this.  This truth is written somewhere on the foundations of my heart that circumstance has not yet shaken.  Because I don’t need to look far to see evidence of that truth.  Even in the struggle of my husband’s illness, our lives are still filled with wonderful blessings.  We have a beautiful child who loves to play with her daddy.  My husband and I have a blast together watching our silly nerdy shows that no one else would think are interesting.  We are surrounded by loving, supportive family and friends.  I have mentioned that not a lot of people can understand what it is like to live with this illness, but many people have bent over backwards trying to. 

So then my conclusion is this: contentment isn’t something we do.  Contentment is a byproduct of admitting that I am not ok, God sees this, and He is good.

I think that is something I can rest in... without pouting.

 

Friday Status Report

First let me say thank you.

Last week was hard emotionally, and you all rallied around me with words of encouragement and hope.  And most importantly with prayer.  

So to review last week: I was up a few pounds last Friday and was discouraged. So when I’d make healthy choice in a restaurant, deny myself tater tots or white knuckle it around a stack of pancakes, there would be a small voice in my head saying, "It doesn't matter.  It's not gonna make a difference, so why try?"

Then, while I was fighting this feeling, I attended a family party that was an Italian feast.  I was afraid that it was going to be a perfect storm of failure.  I felt like I’d inevitably go off course. Like it would happen without me knowing. I’d just black out and wake up surrounded by the shells of cream puffs, lamenting "What have I done? What have I done!?!"

But it was fine.  Great, actually.

I made good choices and I had help.  My sister brought a huge salad.  My mother brought chicken parmesan but only breaded the chicken with ground almonds and parmesan cheese.  And although there were plenty of desserts, there were also fresh strawberries to dunk in chocolate.  Although chocolate is not a regular on my diet plan, I was ok with that small allowance, and all in all the night went great!

Besides the food choices I had the prayers of friends and the strength of the Lord.

And I had all of you.  All of you who have invested in this journey of mine.  All of you rooting and encouraging.  And I knew that whatever happened I would have to report it to all of you.
  
I was surrounded by the power of accountability and community.  Thank you!

And what is the status report you ask…I am down 3 pounds!

Now if anyone is keeping up with the “Boot-scootin' Boogie” that is my weight loss over these past few weeks, here are the stats.  It was 3 pounds down - then 2 pounds up -and now 3 pounds down. (heel, toe, dosey doe...).

And that is 1 more pound to the running total. (This might be new math.)  

So the totals are 18 down since last November and 10 since the first of the year! And one more pom in the weight-loss jar.
 
This process of getting on the other side of one of my first major hurdles has given me a little taste of something, and it’s not chocolate or Lorna Doones.  I think they call it hope.

Proverbs 31 Miseries

Sometimes I feel like scrolling through a Facebook newsfeed can be a thousand points of jealousy for me.

“So let’s see. Judy printed a gluten free recipe…I should probably give up gluten.  Oh, Sally finished her triathlon. She looks all shiny and accomplished. Well. Good. For. Her.  Oh, look at the Jones’s kids, they did a photo shoot.  They’re so cute…I don’t take enough professional photos of my child.  I just take regular photos. What kind of memories are regular photos? When she looks back at those she’ll think we don’t love her.  Bible verse, I guess I’ll give it an obligatory like.  Somebody updated her profile pic with her new cute haircut, obligatory like.  Janet took a picture of her plate.  Well, well, well, look at your healthy, delicious meal, Janet.  That looks awesome.  Is toast awesome? Because that was my dinner: toast!  I made a good meal yesterday but I forgot to take a picture and put it on Facebook.  It’s like it never happened!!!”

*sigh and go to Pinterest*

This Facebook jealousy happens all the time.  A few quick scrolls down my wall and I turn an ugly shade of green.

Similar to the color I turned when reading Better Homes and Gardens in my last post.

To briefly review my last post, I spoke about seeing someone who has it all together and how I had conflicting feelings about her.  (Loving how awesome she was while at the same time hating how awesome she was.)  And I spoke about how what I’m really trying to decipher is my worth or how I add up.  I concluded that I am worth Christ’s death on the cross, which isn’t anything I can earn.

My problem with that conclusion is that it doesn’t make me feel any better.  Before the true awfulness of that sentence sets in, let me explain.

I am trying to feel successful.  I want to be able to say at the end of the day when I lay my head on the pillow, “Nailed it! Now that is how you do a Wednesday.”

So I use the comparison game to see how I’m doing.  “She’s able to get that much done in the day, and I can do a little more than that, so I’m all right.  At least I don’t feed my child that.  At least I’m able to keep up with xyz.”  I look at other people’s lives in order to decide how I am shaping up.

Anyone can see why this is dangerous.  We are not all built the same. We don’t have the same strengths.  There will always be someone better than you or worse than you.  We cannot size up our lives by looking to the right or to the left. 

So where do I look?  Where is the standard so I can measure if I am successful as a human being or not?

 

Some might say we are to be Christ-like.  And I hear you on that. But don’t you realize that I will never be truly Christ-like, not this side of glory anyway?  So although this is something I will strive for, I will fail at it every day.  I will never be perfect.  So then how do I not feel like a failure?

Well, what examples of successful women do we have in the Bible?  You know who I’m going to bring up.  I don’t know about you, but when a preacher says he’s going to preach on this subject I always feel an inward groan and think, “Oh, her.”

I am speaking of the Proverbs 31 woman, or the virtuous woman as she is called in that passage of scripture.

The passage should really be read for itself.  But to summarize, it speaks of a woman who tends to her household, her children, and her husband, and who is also outstanding in business, art, and textiles.  And the sum of the description is overwhelming.  And when I read it I get the same “I’d like to push her down a flight of stairs” jealousy I’ve mentioned before.

Let’s say that Virtue (as I like to call her) had a Facebook page.

“Oh, Virtue took family photos.  They look sooo good – did she really make all of their outfits?  Is this what she serves for dinner every night?  A homemade soufflé and a salad with tomatoes from her own garden?  So she packs school lunches at dawn. Wow. Wait, did she just say she bought a vineyard!?!”

*sigh and go back to Pinterest*

Somehow I’ve turned Virtue into Martha Stewart.  Actually, now that I think of it, she might be Martha Stewart.  Well, with less jail time.

This picture of Virtue is a gross disservice to the passage.  I think it would be easier to follow her as an example if she was someone I could meet or talk to, someone who has small failings and makes little mistakes.   It would also help if the verses came with some small qualifiers.  It might be easier if the passage read more like this:

“She is like the ships of the merchants; she brings her food from afar. And sometimes that’s as far as Pizza Hut.

She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household,but not before her coffee.

With the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard, but then the first one died so she had to get better fertilizer.

She makes bed coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple.  And occasionally she spills some smoothie on her blouse before a meeting.

And she does not eat the bread of idleness, but she does like bagels.”

Now, I know there are other qualifiers to the passage.  That this list of accomplishments covers a lifetime, and isn’t something that Virtue did all in one day.  Or some people look at this passage and say that this shows the many facets of womanhood, and that we are able to be many different things.

In short, this passage was never meant to be a list to hold myself up to.  In fact, there is no checklist to rate myself by.  

But there is one verse that stands out from that passage.

“Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”

And also a verse in the New Testament:

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31

I think I have decided that feeling “successful” is not about a checklist, because there will always be more to do.  Maybe it is about the question.

“How do I glorify God today?” 

Because if we can learn anything from Virtue (and there’s a lot to be learned; the passage is rich), it’s that whatever she put her hand to, she tried to do it to the glory of God.  Did she fail to finish all her tasks? Yup.  But the next day she tried again.

Now, I said that my worth coming from Christ’s death on the cross doesn’t make me feel any better, but I shouldn’t forget that it is the balm that allows me to be covered in grace.  So that whether or not I nail my list for the day, the truth is that I am serving a living and engaging God who forgives my sins and gives grace for my small mistakes, and that I don’t have to feel guilty.  His death on the cross may not tell me how I’m adding up, but it does say that I don’t have to.

So the plan is this: that every day I’ll ask the Lord to help me know what I should do that day.  And to show me the best way to spend my time (which sometimes means blowing off my list of tasks for the needs of a friend) At the end of the day I will praise the Lord for what He helped me to get done, and I’ll ask Him to forgive me if I was foolish with my time, and I’ll rest in the fact that both are covered in His grace.  Then I’ll put my head on a pillow and sleep.  It’s not necessarily “Nailed it!”  It’s more of “I’m covered.”  And His mercies will be new for tomorrow as well.  So why should I worry?