The collective rooms were silent – the three connected by zoom over 3 states. If our arms were long enough we could form a human chain starting in Central Missouri reach up to Nebraska and then south west to Colorado. That picture gives me peace – knowing that I am within a days driving distance of each of my favorite people – emphasis – days – not hours or minutes. I’m incredibly grateful for technology that allows us the opportunity to sit together for an hour a week and get caught up on life happenings, the good, the bad and the ugly. It just so happens that on this particular day… the news shared fell heavily into the bad and somewhat ugly category.
Silence.
If you have or had young children you are very aware of the power of a $4 box of cartoon embossed band aids or a Mc Donalds happy meal. A small scrape on a knee or an even heavier gushing wound – when covered by a brightly colored band aid – makes it All Better. A hard day at school or disappointing little league game can make a dramatic turn with a quick run though the drive through for chicken nuggets, fries and and orange drink – don’t forget the prize. The mood shifts for your child which shifts the very air the rest of the family breaths and life feels back on track. I’m so thankful for those boxes of pink band aids and greasy cheeseburgers. Powerful tools in the hands of weary parents.
Silence.
The news shared on our most recent connect time though – would not be fixed by a colorful band aid or a happy meal. The challenges faced by my young adult ‘children’ involved answers that required medical specialists, surgery, second opinions, cancelling credit cards, sitting in heart ache…… and there was not one thing I could do to fix it.
Not. One.
Silence.
There is an important transition that occurs in a parents journey that allows the silence to sit. As a fixer, natural encourager ( there is always a bright side – right?) this has been one of the hardest yet most rewarding skills I have learned. Ok – lets be honest – learn ING. My gut instinct when my children are facing challenges are to rush in to sharing solutions not to sit with the silence. The silence of unknown solutions. The silence of pain that will take days sometimes years to fade. The silence of recognizing real consequences that come from real choices.
It is uncomfortable.
It can cause discouragement.
And it is absolutely necessary.
Necessary.
Recently on a beautiful Friday afternoon I found myself enjoying the spring weather with five of my neighbors. Our chairs were overturned 5 gallon buckets and our drinks were cold and refreshing. Stories were shared about past life experiences and future plans. As time passed we turned to topics of our children, their current life status and our role as parents. We confessed our desires and struggles to want to continue to micro manage their young adult lives. If they would just listen to us they would certainly be protected from the pain that this world most certainly can give.
As we shared our situations and sought advice we shifted out thoughts to our own early days of transitioning into adult hood. We recalled days of poor financial choices, crazy career moves others didn’t understand, missed opportunities. We laughed as we connected knowing each of us had some proverbial skeletons in our closet. And then …. then the turn. The shift from our struggles and hard times to the ways we had each seen God provide in them. In our own seasons of silence.
One friend shared stories of generosity from family and friends in the early years of their marriage. Another recalled how important it was to feel the consequences of a bad decision. It brought much needed wisdom that still impacts their life today. Over and over again we saw God. We saw his goodness, his provision, his unconditional love. That can only be seen and felt…
In the Silence.
When I rush in to fix, I fill the space where God wants to meet my loved one. I can take away the opportunity for them to see His goodness, his provision and his unconditional love. The things that will fill that space when we sit in it long enough to turn our eyes and hearts to see it. The space that allows God’s best answers not mine.
I reached out to one of my children via a text late last night – “Hey – how are you doing?”. The response came long after I had fallen asleep. I drifted off in my own silence. No answers about their well being but I rested in peace. God is teaching me to rest in the silence, His peace despite the still unanswered questions in my life and those of the people I love most. I am finding the contentment that reflects the encouragement of the writer of Psalm 62:5.
“Find Rest o my soul in God alone, my hope comes from Him.”
It is real, it is lasting, it is true.
Her response was the first thing I read this morning,
“Hey mom, much better!” Followed by the provisions God had provided to some of her hard questions. Answers that came in the middle….
Introduction: When Annalyse and I both had toddlers, we met weekly for a playdate. While the children bustled around the house making messes in various rooms, she and I talked about God. We didn’t follow a set devotion or Bible study. Instead, we shared how God was speaking to us through where his word and the circumstances in our lives intersected. During those playdate years, I learned so much from Annalyse, who holds a BA in Biblical studies. Our friendship is now long-distance, but she continues to bless me and others by taking her love and talent for Biblical/Historical research and weaving it into a relatable story with modern application.
Deeply researched and brilliantly presented, this new novel from Annalyse Mower puts us in Pharaoh’s shoes at the time of the great Biblical Exodus. Creepy? Yes. But, it challenged me to truly put myself at the feet of the Almighty God and realize that nothing, and no one, can stop the love he has for his people.
If you struggle with the problem of evil and suffering in our world, I especially invite you to read this alongside the story of Jesus, the ultimate Passover lamb. -Molly Poppe
Then You Will Know: The Crushing of Pharaoh
Chapter One
Take heed, O unrepentant nation. Beware, you of hardened heart. He can humble you – I know that of which I speak.
I am the son of the gods, the incarnation of Horus, in league with divinity: they heed my voice. I was chosen as the best from among my brothers, each a perfect and beautiful prince. I came from the lineage of warrior kings who live in immortal memory. My sons were many and my dynasty was assured. I was strong of arm, swift of chariot, mighty of army: I built cities of gold; I led conquerors and ruled kings; nations trembled before me.
Egypt was a perfect jewel, a heavenly oasis in the desert. It pleased the gods to give us all that was good, to build us into the mightiest nation on earth. My empire was sovereign; faraway nations trembled at my name. Tribute flowed from the north and the south, turquoise and copper from the wilderness. No other kingdom enjoyed strength like Egypt’s. I ruled the world.
But then, the Troublemaker arose.
He was weak. Despised. A traitor to the people who had opened wide their bosom and nursed him with the best of their land. He was given the choicest of everything and the fool threw it away for nothing – for nobodies. He aligned himself with slaves and followed the leading of a prideful delusion. It would be his destruction: I would see to it. It could be nothing else. The God of slaves could not conquer the sun-god, the king.
For I am Pharaoh.
——————————
Derisive laughter echoed from the room’s painted plaster walls, careening off marble columns to assault the ears. It circled the knot of dusty, threadbare slaves before me like a horde of demons. They cowered closer together, their lips tight in pale faces, their hollow eyes darting nervously from face to snarling face in the crowd behind them. Good. They remember their place, despite this one misjudgement. I felt my spine harden. It will not happen again.
Only two stood firm, like men. They were almost equal in height, but the one on the right wore the same threadbare clothes and stooped shoulders as the terrified mob behind him. I sniffed. Slave. The man beside him, however …
My lip twisted in a slight, mocking sneer and I raised my hand for silence, disgust pleasurably warm in my depths. As the court stilled, menace thickened the air. The slaves’ anxiety accentuating my unparalleled power was a sensation to be savored. Delicious. The mob shifted nervously, cringing, their wide eyes glinting like rabbits in the shadows. Except for their leaders. The two men stood still – an old slave and his foreign brother. The younger of the two stood tensely, his knuckles white as he grasped his staff. But he met my gaze.
Traitor.
“Who is Adonai, that I should obey him and let Israel go?” My booming condescension pushed the slaves into a tighter huddle, eyes on their filthy feet. Power surged through me with its familiar tingle and I sat, mighty and upright on my throne. “I do not know Adonai and I will not let Israel go.”
The simpering slaves deflated and I turned from them unceremoniously to beckon for wine. A tentative, unexpected voice arrested me.
“The God of the Hebrews has met with us.”
He dares to answer? I turned to face the speaker, my soul dancing with bemused incredulity. The two leaders clustered tightly together, the Traitor whispering into his older brother’s ear. Both were pale and pretended they could not feel me gaping. After a moment the slave spoke again, his gaze fixed on the wall behind my head; the Troublemaker stood beside him, rooted and upright as the dictated words echoed through the room. His shoulders tremble, though.
“Now let us take a three-day journey into the desert to offer sacrifices to Adonai our God, or He may strike us with plagues or with the sword.” The slave’s weak, choked voice failed as doubt filled his face. He knows, as the others do – they have no hope.
Kenamun, my royal steward, approached the dais. After offering a formal bow he ascended the steps, his eyes carefully on each marble tread. When he reached the top, I perceived a smothered jeer and his derisive amusement goaded my own; I rolled my lips to stifle the undignified chuckles bubbling in my throat and instead took a deep swallow of wine. “What is your God’s vengeance to me, slave?” The traitor’s spokesman wilted and took a tremulous step back toward his brethren. I smirked and raised the cup to my lips again, its sweetness sliding over my tongue and down my throat, and eyed the audacity before me. “Moshe -” contempt dripped from the name “- and Aharon, why are you taking the people away from their labor?” I rested my elbows on my knees, basking in the anxiety that drank in my every movement. “Get back to your work.” The low growl danced on the menacing chuckles of my men.
The Hebrew slaves behind Moshe and Aharon bowed deeply and retreated, fleeing the confinement of my Great House and the guards who pursued them like dogs. Seething foremen collared some of the slower-moving elders and shoved them toward the door. But still Moshe and Aharon stood. I raised myself from the throne and ambled to the edge of the dais, my arm gesturing toward the sounds of construction and labor that seeped through my walls. Whips, groans, and straining ropes permeated the mud bricks.
“Look, the people of the land are now numerous – and you are stopping them from working.” My oozing sarcasm hardened into disdain. I rule this world. Did you really believe you could sway a god?
Aharon’s face blanched and he inclined his head, slowly inching his way out of the reception hall. Satisfaction tickled my innards and I allowed my arm to fall. Good. You remember this. Moshe remained stationary and defiant, his lips twitching with unspoken words.
“Yes?” I leaned toward him with glinting eyes. “You desire an audience with the son of Amun … prince?” The ridicule electrified my veins – powerful, warm, intoxicating – and made my head giddy. Moshe’s lips snapped tight, eyes hard in his pale face. His humiliation simmered pleasurably in my core and I sighed with contentment. And now you bow.
But he did not.
Instead, he strode from the hall without a backward glance, his shepherd’s staff clicking off his paces. My complacency turned cold and anger pricked my skin. He defied me. Before my men, he dared to defy me. Seething offense made me quiver as hot resentment kindled in my chest. With a grunt I flung my cup against the wall, its wine trickling in scarlet rivulets to puddle at the base.
“Captain!” Exasperation tore my throat.
Mahu, the captain of my bodyguard, came running, his plain sandals slapping the plaster floor as his short sword bounced against his thigh. “Your Majesty.” His low voice was steady, despite his run. He dropped to one knee with head inclined.
The flick of my fingers lifted him to his feet. “Gather the foremen and slave drivers. Tell them that they are no longer to supply the slaves with straw for the bricks; let the people go and gather it for themselves. But their quota remains unchanged.” Arms folded across my chest, my brow was furrowed with offended irritation but wicked delight stirred my soul. Sunshine from the doorway streamed into the reception hall, invigorating the colors on the floor with yellow light – but in my eyes, they had been stained by the Traitor’s presence. He will bow. My voice was smooth, low. “The Hebrews are lazy. Let us give them something else to think about.”
————————
Mingled double-pipes, harps, and laughter stroked my ears, their music enhanced by the comfortable heaviness of the wine. I took a deep breath, the savory air flooding my tongue with saliva. My private courtyard was bright with flickering lamps, and the shimmer of dancers’ lithe, glistening bodies bewitched my eyes and intoxicated my senses as I relaxed into the merriment’s gentle caresses. Beyond the walls, the frogs and the Nile whispered lullabies to the deepening dusk. All was ma’at – the world was balanced, its harmony upheld by my might – and I was pleased.
The twinkles of light rippling across my dark wine satiated my soul, and I tilted the cup to better admire the gleam of its silver. A good world. Lifting it to my lips, I quaffed deeply and nudged the companion on my right. “And how is my son, Iuty? He is a true prince of the blood, is he not?”
The tutor politely inclined his head with a gentle smile. “He is indeed, your Majesty. A strong youth. I can hardly get him to leave the archery range for his other studies. But he is intelligent, like his father. He shows great promise for one so young.”
A lazy grin seeped over my countenance and I nodded. “Good. He should! The son of the King of Upper and Lower Egypt!” Chuckles danced over my thick tongue and I shook an unwieldy finger at Iuty. “Do not let him distract you into neglecting the arts. I would have him surpass me just as I have surpassed my father – both as a warrior and an artist.” My cup swayed as I drew it toward me and I carefully monitored its progress. “But let his first excellence be the battlefield! May he exceed even me … if he is able.” The wine drowned out my amusement at my own wittiness.
Again Iuty inclined his head politely, the quiet smile still in place. “Of course, Per’ Aa.”
I stared across the table at the girls gyrating to the music, a fire burning in my groin. “And when the time comes, make sure you teach him to fight hand-to-hand. He will need a good sparring partner.” I extended a wavering finger toward the tutor. “You are your father’s son. He taught me well – and you too. Do the same for my son.”
“To the best of my ability, Per’ Aa,” he murmured. “I will always do my best for your son.”
I nodded, enjoying the unbalanced sensation in my head, and slapped a hand on his shoulder, sloshing the wine in my cup precariously. “I know, my friend. That is why I chose you!”
My lecherous view of the lithesome beauties was spoiled by the decrepit figure of my father’s relic stumping toward me. The old man offered a bow stiff with arthritis and, without awaiting my leave, lowered himself into the open place beside me with a sigh. I ground my teeth and turned my head to avoid the stench of his advancing age. “Vizier Rekhmire.”
“Majesty,” he wheezed. He nodded to Iuty before beckoning to a nearby slave bearing a tray of honey cakes. “The only thing I can eat anymore … everything else is too hard to chew,” he panted through a congenial, toothless smile. I nodded, sparing the trouble of a reply with another gulp from my cup. Take what you want, old man. Just do not make me watch you chew it.
Rekhmire snuffled a few bites. “Is it true, what I heard about the court today?” He searched my face with watery eyes as he wiped the crumbs and spittle from his chin.
“That depends on what you heard.” My sight found more interesting fodder than his wrinkled face, and I let myself devour the tight, firm figures of the dancers.
He leaned close, his foul breath now intolerable with the sweetness from the cakes. “Has Moshe returned?”
I rolled my eyes as I lifted the cup to my lips. “What would that matter?”
Rekhmire gawked and puffed out his cheeks in over-dramatic shock, accepting a proffered cup of water from Iuty. “I have been in the Great House many years; I have seen many things.” He nodded to himself with a slosh. “Moshe – he was a great man. Would have done great things, if he had not … but that was before the … and now …” His tongue tied itself around words better left unsaid and he devolved into silence, still nodding while he sipped his cup and watched the girls.
I snorted without shifting my gaze, twitching with the irony. “And now he has aligned himself with slaves.”
“Slaves?” Rekhmire’s focus flew to my face, the wrinkles in his forehead shifting like sand. A light dawned in his mind and he took a deep breath. “Yes, the slaves. With Moshe, it is always the Hebrews.”
With a sigh, I glanced over my shoulder in his direction and fastened my look on the flickering lamp suspended above his head. “Apparently the slaves’ God demands a sacrifice. He demanded their release, to allow three days’ travel to perform His rites.”
“Hm.” Rekhmire sucked his gums. “And will you let them?”
Surprise choked me, wine burning my throat, as Iuty exploded. “Let them? My lord Vizier! Are you mad? Why should his Majesty release our slaves?”
Rekhmire surveyed us calmly. “I did not say he should. I asked if he would.” His normally weak eyes shone with a disconcerting light. “Have you made your decision, Per’ Aa?”
I shook my head and wiped the wine from my chin, my voice heavy with condescension. “Certainly not. Who is their God? Why should I let them go? Their quarrel with their God is no concern of mine.” They would never have made this request of my father. The remembrance of Moshe’s mocking defiance knotted my gut and ruined my enjoyment of the women. “They will learn that a greater warrior than even the mighty Thutmose holds the throne!” The declaration was loud with conviction and wine, and I raised my glass for a refill. When the cup was brimful of comfort again, I relaxed back against the cushion. “Besides, I have ensured that the slaves will have no more leisure for worrying about any maleficent deity – other than me.” Iuty joined in my merciless chuckles but Rekhmire remained strangely silent. I eyed him over the cup’s rim. “I did not realize you had so much love for the slaves, old man.”
His stooped shoulders startled and his eyes darted, his mouth slack with surprise. I grinned into my cup and glanced toward Iuty, himself hiding a smirk. Rekhmire swallowed and shook his head slowly. “No, not so, Per’ Aa. Not love. But,” he inched his way toward me, his foul, whispered breath offending my nostrils, “as your Vizier, I would caution you about the man Moshe. He is … there is …” I sighed impatiently and Rekhmire concluded, “he is not an ordinary man.”
Old fool. I scoffed and turned back to the naked dancers, my voice disdainful. “Then it is well that I am a god.”
Then You Will Know is now available for purchase on Amazon. Buy now
My Children’s eyes reflected the flashing lights as they stared, wide-eyed at the display. Whistles and mechanical gears filled our ears. The older gentleman darted around the converted barn with the joy-filled energy of a child on Christmas, turning knobs, pushing buttons, flipping switches, breathing life into the tiny machines.
Every train had a story, “This one my wife and I built together when we were first married. We lived in a trailer and didn’t have any extra space.” He indicated the miniature train track, set into a coffee table, glass top covering the intricate village. “We could eat pizza on it or play trains!”
Walking over to another, larger display, he pointed out the wooden lid, propped open. “This one was discovered in a nursing home, fifteen years after its owner died. They had been using it as a buffet…cutting cakes on it and such. Didn’t discover it until they were doing renovation and the contractors lifted the lid.”
Hundreds of toy trains, hundreds of stories to be told.
I love stories. Upon meeting someone, I love to hear them share theirs. Where they came from, what motivates them, and who they love. It’s what I love about this blog – people sharing their stories and how God is working in their lives.
Stories carry memories, they bond strangers, heal hearts, bring laughter and tears. We love to read or watch a good story. We recount them to our friends, tell our children, write them down.
On this night, a little over two thousand years ago, Jesus told an important story around the dinner table. The story of a people in bondage, rescued through a tragic victory, their freedom bought through a spotless lamb. The Hebrew people were told to celebrate this story every year so they could remember the deeds of the Lord especially in their darkest moments. In a goosebump-inspiring-moment, the disciples reclining at the table were with true and better Lamb of God, the Son of Man, who would die less than twenty-four hours later in a beautiful, tragic rescue, saving His people (everyone who calls on His name) from their bondage (sin).
The story of Passover, foreshadowing the victory of Christ’s death and resurrection, is the story worth telling over and over again, with increasing joy every time as we realize more and more our broken humanity and the depth from which we have been raised up through Jesus’ sacrifice. This weekend, I pray you take the time to listen, to read, to experience the story anew and share it with even more intensity of joy than our train collector sharing his treasures.
Oh give thanks to the Lord; call upon his name; make known his deeds among the peoples! Sing to him, sing praises to him; tell of all his wondrous works!
“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” Philippians 4:12 NIV
“I know how to get along and live humbly (in difficult times) and I also know how to enjoy abundance and live in prosperity. In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret (of facing life) whether well-fed or going hungry, whether having an abundance or being in need.” Philippians 4:12 AMP
“I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. ” Philippians 4:12 MSG
It began as a conversation between 4 friends over zoom. We were sharing bible verses that offered encouragement. Sitting in the midst of so much global strife felt overwhelming and we were looking for answers to the growing anxiety among us. One friend pointed to Paul and his words to the Philippians about “learning to be content.” He was able to look at all circumstances good or bad and sit in contentment. What a super power. The more we talked about it – the more I too wanted it – the ability to be content in any situation. Like Superman’s Cape, or Wonder Woman’s invisible jet – I wanted the tool to help answer all the questions created from the things in my life that left me feeling simply out of control.
Later that night I hung up the phone with my sister and the weight of the conversation settled on my shoulders. Along with sharing the same parents, same upbringing, we also share some unique parenting experiences that involve childhood trauma, healing and life on the other side. I am so grateful I have someone in my life that completely understands one the hardest seasons of my life. I love and respect her opinion and her always listening ear. We don’t always, if ever, come up with solutions to the challenges we discuss but it brings me peace knowing I always have a safe place to process life. As I pondered the conversation with my sister and the sharing with my friends earlier in the day I began putting together an idea that has since been my version of a super power – the key to contentment.
Over the last month I have had the opportunity to teach this idea to hundreds of women both virtually and in person and now I want to pass it on to you. SO, Plot twist…. you are now moving from a sit and passively take in content by reading this blog to a, hopefully willing and active participant in an exercise that I believe could change your life.
Take out a piece of paper.
Drawn a line down the middle – creating two columns.
Label one side “Content”
Label the other side “Discontent”
(No it doesn’t matter which side you put these on.)
Start with the Content side and DUMP. Everything in your life that leaves you with a feeling of peace and contentment.
Here are some of mine today…
Knowing I put clean sheets on my bed this morning and will crawl into them later tonight. ahh.
Sunshine and 60 degree day.
The coffee shop where I’m currently sitting that makes the best, strongest coffee on the planet and is located 8 miles from my home.
Now move to the Discontent side and DUMP everything that triggers feelings of stress, anxiety, fear… discontentment. all of it. All. of. it.
Personal, Work, relationships, health issues, global crises, parents, kids……. Dump it.
Now take the discontent list and draw a line through everything of which you have zero possibility of controlling the outcome. Go ahead – use a thick black line and block them out. Don’t worry – we will come back to it. It needs to blacked out – totally.
What is left are 2 lists –
1 – A gratitude List – things that are currently bringing you joy and peace and blessing. So many things on this list are 100% gifts from God that you did not seek or ask for. Many are things you have worked for and that effort has had a direct impact on the results. It is so good to spend time recognizing the blessings that abound in our lives ever single day.
2 – A “What I can control but may possibly be pretending that I can’t” discontent list. A list that we may rehash with friends, post about on face book, but wont take responsibility for working on.
Let me give you an example.
For the last few weeks I have enjoyed the beginnings of pre menopause life – HOT FLASHES. They are indeed a thing and they have impacted my sleep which impacts my productivity, my attitude and my general view of life. I’ve discussed (complained about it) with a few friends in my demographic, my entire bible study group of 100+ women, my physical therapist, my sister and my husband. Each gave encouragement, suggestions, and knowing sighs but ultimately none of them can take this item off my “discontent” list. It’s up to me to call a doctor, make a much over due appointment and begin looking for solutions. Which I did.
I dread my yearly trip to the girl doctor. Despite birthing three children and making countless visits with some fantastic doctors in three different states over the years… it is still a date I wish I could skip. And I did – for the last 4 years. The year before Covid I received a letter that my doctor that I had just found after our move to Missouri, and really liked, was moving out of state. Just like that. Ugh. A few months later our world shut down and it just seemed like everyone stopped doing routine check ups so I jumped right on that very comfortable band wagon. Then the hot flashes started, then they got worse and I realized I was spending A lot of time complaining to anyone who would listen. I also recognized I was using the fact that I lost my doctor as reason for not figuring out the answer to a problem that was figure out able. The phrase I use with business consultants I coach is…
“Defending my limitations.”
I don’t have time to find a new doctor.
I’m sure this will just all go away ( especially if I keep talking to people that cant do a darn thing about it.)
It’s not that bad.
I’ll go over Spring Break.
I’ll go in the Summer.
I’ll ask a few friends for the names of their doctors.
Gas prices are rising and the closest doctor is 30 miles away.
blah, blah, blah.
Defend, defend, defend.
I had and have complete control over many things in my life ….
and
so.
do.
you.
Sometimes we need to hear it. Many times I need to hear it. And then I need to move into action to do something about it.
So… have you made your lists? What do you see?
Are you amazed at the gifts you’ve been over looking? I am.
Are you convicted by the things that have frustrated you that you can actually control? I am.
Finally – have you released the things you blacked out with a thick dark line, the ones you can’t control? Like really put them in the hands of our God that is quite capable of holding? Have you? I’m trying.
When I think about Paul’s words to the Philippians – I like to believe that he understood the idea of 2 lists. He had solved the mystery of feeling content in any and every situation. He was able to see the good in any situation he was in – the content list. His letter of encouragement to the Philippians was written while he was in prison. He gave instruction to those around him and put effort into things he could control – The discontent list. He lived each day trusting all the big, hard, out of control things into the hand of a God who could hold them – the blacked out list.
The Secret….. and now you know it too.
Finally, I have found it so helpful to remember a couple of things about these lists….
Everybody has them. Every. Body. Every body. It may appear that others lives are one big list of blessing but don’t be fooled. Behind every filter covered social media post touting the perfect husband, job, home, children is a discontent list. Lists that are filled with events they cannot control that would shock you if you knew the truth. Lists of things they wrestle with taking responsibility for. Yep- we all have 2 lists.
We can’t wait for our entire world to land on the content side of the page to move into the callings we have on our lives. Paul did not let his discontent circumstances stop him from proclaiming the gospel, starting churches and equipping leaders to lead them.
We have a God that will provide for all we need, every darn thing, so that we can clearly see the blessings in both the content and discontent side of the lists. I have found that He is present on both sides. I have realized that He works in both to teach me to trust his ability to use all things for His glory and my good.
Earlier today I had a conversation with one of my college kids that are in the process of finalizing summer job and living plans. Some of the challenge is that she is simply waiting on answers to job applications, housing requests etc. These are totally out of her control. The other challenges are in her control, reaching out to other possible opportunities, making firm decisions about what she won’t do. As we wrapped up the conversation – we reflected on her lists. First, the content list. We thanked God for the blessings of several opportunities she has for her summer that will provide income and experience. Second, the discontent list. We recognized that patience was needed as she waited for answers from employers and landlords – things she could not control. Finally, she looked at the items on her list that she could actually put effort into effecting and prioritized her focus for her day. The Superpower, The Secret to being content….
Campfires and Marshmallows 