…and no, I really don’t want a peanut. But thank you just the same.
For those of you who don’t personally know me, or those who live far off and are not updated on the Gore family situation, I and my family are living in a brand-new two-story white farmhouse situated on 10 beautiful acres at the top of our town’s hill.
Of course, my list of wants for the exterior and the interior of our dwelling is extensive. I tick them off very slowly, as money and Mr. Gore allow.
But in truth, we don’t really want for anything. Our chairs might not be upholstered in my favorite fabric, but we have chairs to sit on, every one of us. Our nightstands might not match, but they do the trick of housing our favorite books, flashlights, etc. The large toybox in the children’s nursery might still be unfinished, sticking out like a sore thumb in this Mama’s eyes, but…it holds the toys just fine.
We live one hill away from my husband’s office, meaning he comes home for lunch every day, and is always at our beck and call, especially when I spot another scorpion.
And yet, I had the nerve to say yesterday, “I just wish we lived in the country.”
It is true…although terrified of snakes and mean bugs and those big hairy spiders that must not be named, I thrive in the country. I love the freedom of puttering about outside in my nightdress, I love the country sounds that lull me to sleep at night, I love the unadulterated landscape.
Have you ever noticed that, no matter how good you’ve got it, you always find something else to wish for?
I remember when we lived in Kentucky, and I positively pined for home. I would wake up literally crying after having dreams of driving down the county line road that led to my parent’s house.
But it is so typical that, once I got my wish, things just weren’t as I pictured them. We didn’t have a house. We didn’t have a job. Our home church was in turmoil. And so, even though my greatest wish had been fulfilled, I would lay in bed at night wishing for God to quickly change things. Give us a house. Give us a job. Fix our church. Right now! I felt flighty and anxious, my eyes fixed on some distant hill where my life was perfect and everything was just as I would wish it to be.
And so it is very disappointing to me that, four years later, I have a house…my husband has a job…our church is a dream.
And I’m still wishing.
Do you think Mrs. Gore will ever learn the Christian art of contentment?
Only if she fights her discontentment, aided by the Spirit.
And so I ask you to join me today. Let’s count our blessings. Let’s compare our situations to those endured by our brothers and sisters around the world. Let’s make lists of all the fun things we’ve done this year, the possessions we’ve acquired, the gifts we’ve received, the places we’ve gone. And then let’s think about the things that really matter…a faithful husband, our fearfully crafted children, our irreplaceable brothers and sisters in the faith, our truth-teaching shepherds…
Let’s stop looking for something better and thank God for what we’ve got.
When we’re done, I’ll let you know if I still wish I could just live in the country…
I’m betting, though, that I’ll be pretty speechless.