“Darkness was and darkness was good. As with light. Light and Darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following, both fully being, in joyful rhythm.”
– Madeleine L’Engle, A Swiftly Tilting Planet
Our plans fell through today. Just about the time I made new plans, the clouds burst open with rain. I decided to watch the rain for a while from our patio—darkness and light dancing together as raindrops sparkled in the yard.
A friend has been compiling a list of “how not to grow old.” She has brainstormed several recommendations, maybe I’ll write about those one day. But in the meanwhile, she has me thinking about contentment.
Thinking about contentment
Contentment isn’t about the stuff of life. Nor is it about the absence of storms. Contentment is an inner attribute not dependent on life’s circumstances. The Apostle Paul testified, “I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me” (Phillippians 4:12-13 CSB).
Contentment is being in a right relationship with oneself, the world, and God. It’s recognizing and enjoying the dance between the dark places of life and the light of our blessings. A Puritan preacher, Jeremiah Burroughs, said, ” Christian contentment is that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God’s wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.”
My struggle
I’ve struggled with contentment at least a little bit lately. Summer is the season for traveling, but we chose to stay home. I feel a bit envious as I scroll through social media, seeing grand landscapes, tranquil seas, and families gathered for pictures. I rebuke my soul, of course, because we have had grand adventures in the past months and will have them again. But my days have been quieter than usual. A favorite author talks about the power of naming. Emily P. Freeman says, “The simple act of naming something can bring forth life and healing to the same extent that not naming things can do the opposite.” And so in the past few days, I’ve been exploring my inner world – anxiety, restlessness, distraction. As I name these, I also pray, asking the Spirit of God to search me, know my inner thoughts, and point out areas where I am not allowing the gospel to do its work.
Certainly, my lack of contentment is evidence of a lack of gratitude for the abundance I experience, living in the light of His saving grace. With that revelation, I sigh and repent yet again.
Contentment, a poem by Eugene Field
Happy the man that, when his day is done,
Lies down to sleep with nothing of regret–
The battle he has fought may not be won–
The fame he sought be just as fleeting yet;
Folding at last his hands upon his breast,
Happy is he, if hoary and forespent,
He sinks into the last, eternal rest,
Breathing these only works: “I am content.”But happier he, that, while his blood is warm,
~E. Field
See hopes and friendships dead about him lie–
Bares his brave breast to envy’s bitter storm,
Nor shuns the poison barbs of calumny;
And ‘mid it all, stands sturdy and elate,
Girt only in the armor God hath meant
For him who ‘neath the buffetings of fate
Can say to God and man: “I am content.”
May dark and light dance freely in the quiet stillness before the Lord, and there may I learn contentment.
