The Secret of Being Content

I love spring. I’ve been looking forward to it for months. Warmer weather, longer days, blooming flowers and trees. It’s like coming out of a cave after a long hibernation. I can almost hear the angels sing, or maybe it’s the birds.

Then right in the middle of spring bliss there’s a random day when the temperature reaches eighty-two, just warm enough that the air takes on a thicker, heavier feel. The slightest hint of moisture appears across the bridge of my nose causing my sunglasses to slip down while I’m working the flower beds. Suddenly, the elation I’d experienced the day before evaporates. Oh no. I’m not ready for summer.

In summer, I’ll be pining for the cooler weather of autumn. Daydreaming of colorful leaves, crisp cool nights, and walks in the woods. By the time fall arrives, I’m planning the holidays while at the same time fretting over the excessive number of hours of darkness the days hold. It seems there’s no season when I’m not looking forward to or dreading the next.

When I was a kid, I rode my bike pretending I was driving a motorcycle. When I got a motorcycle, I pretended I was driving a car. Now that I’m driving a car, I’m wistfully thinking of the carefree days of riding my bike. Clearly, I need to learn the secret of contentment Paul references in Philippians 4:11-13.

I find so many times that the days gone by are a blur. Could it be that I’m so preoccupied by where I wish I was, what I hope to obtain, or who I aspire to be that I’m missing what’s right in front of me? And, incidentally, what’s right in front of me is the very thing I’d wished for once-upon-a-time. Will I reach the end of my life only to realize I had everything I ever wanted but failed to fully recognize it?

This thought gives me a different perspective, and quite frankly, scares me. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to forgive wrongs and overlook faults. To take every opportunity to say what matters, hug tightly, and love fiercely. To sit back, take a deep breath, and exhale a prayer of thanks for the here and now.

And there it is, the secret of being content.

A thankful heart is the garden where contentment is grown. In all things, at all times. No matter the season. Whether riding a bike or driving a car, thankfulness settles my soul. Instead of longing for things to change, I should embrace all that is right in front of me understanding that eventually everything changes. Today, this moment, is all I really have.

Being present in the present isn’t something I’ve mastered. I’m still learning, still trying to get it right. I can do it though. I know I can. (Phil 4:13)