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- Feb 9, 2004
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Never Enough - November 17, 2005
My niece is getting married this weekend. While it's not an extravagant wedding, I want to look nice. My wallet tells me it's not a good time for a new outfit and I've lost a little weight recently; enough that my "good dress" doesn't fit anymore. What to do? I admit that I fussed over the situation, complained to God that somehow it was His fault. Even though it was a silent grumble, it bothered me and brought discontent to my life.
Yesterday, I felt the Lord reminding me to check my closet. It seemed like a silly thing to do. I knew what was in my closet. I shook off the impulse, content to indulge in self-pity, but finally obeyed. There it was, right in front of me.
My sister had given me a beautiful silvery-gray suit about a year ago. It didn't fit. "Lose ten more pounds and it will," she had said to me. I never thought it would happen; in fact, I had forgotten all about it tucked into the corner of my closet. Yesterday, when I pulled it out of the closet, I thought how sad it was that it was too small. I loved the silky smoothness of the fabric, thought how beautiful it would be with a pastel pink shell under the lovely jacket. I tried it on, just for fun. It fit perfectly. It was unbelievable; an affirmation of not only my long efforts to lose weight, but also a reminder of my sister's love for me and the reassuring knowledge of God's never-ending care.
What I needed was already in my possession. I just hadn't realized it. I was too busy complaining.
Jeremiah 17:6 describes my situation: "He will be like a bush in the wastelands; he will not see prosperity when it comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives."
Isn't it funny how we are never satisfied? We have enough to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over our heads but we always want more. It doesn't matter how much money we have or make; we always strive for a "little more." And did you notice the word "wastelands" in the verse above? Isn't it true that while we live with all these desires for more, we waste what we do have? We complain about our bank accounts and yet fritter away money in careless abandon. We complain about our need for a new car and yet don't take care of the ones we already have. We justify our wasteful actions and then complain about the consequences. I've lived in that parched place in the desert Jeremiah talks about, that salt land of self-pity. It's not a pretty environment.
Finding that suit inspires me to polish my old shoes rather than fussing about a new pair, to take a chicken from the freezer for dinner instead of ordering pizza, to send an extra prayer of thanks for the remaining produce in our garden as I make a fresh salad with the last cabbage, and to send an email to my daughter, telling her how much I love her.
I choose to be thankful for what I hold in my hand and for what is tucked away, unnoticed.
Contributed by Candace Simar
My niece is getting married this weekend. While it's not an extravagant wedding, I want to look nice. My wallet tells me it's not a good time for a new outfit and I've lost a little weight recently; enough that my "good dress" doesn't fit anymore. What to do? I admit that I fussed over the situation, complained to God that somehow it was His fault. Even though it was a silent grumble, it bothered me and brought discontent to my life.
Yesterday, I felt the Lord reminding me to check my closet. It seemed like a silly thing to do. I knew what was in my closet. I shook off the impulse, content to indulge in self-pity, but finally obeyed. There it was, right in front of me.
My sister had given me a beautiful silvery-gray suit about a year ago. It didn't fit. "Lose ten more pounds and it will," she had said to me. I never thought it would happen; in fact, I had forgotten all about it tucked into the corner of my closet. Yesterday, when I pulled it out of the closet, I thought how sad it was that it was too small. I loved the silky smoothness of the fabric, thought how beautiful it would be with a pastel pink shell under the lovely jacket. I tried it on, just for fun. It fit perfectly. It was unbelievable; an affirmation of not only my long efforts to lose weight, but also a reminder of my sister's love for me and the reassuring knowledge of God's never-ending care.
What I needed was already in my possession. I just hadn't realized it. I was too busy complaining.
Jeremiah 17:6 describes my situation: "He will be like a bush in the wastelands; he will not see prosperity when it comes. He will dwell in the parched places of the desert, in a salt land where no one lives."
Isn't it funny how we are never satisfied? We have enough to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over our heads but we always want more. It doesn't matter how much money we have or make; we always strive for a "little more." And did you notice the word "wastelands" in the verse above? Isn't it true that while we live with all these desires for more, we waste what we do have? We complain about our bank accounts and yet fritter away money in careless abandon. We complain about our need for a new car and yet don't take care of the ones we already have. We justify our wasteful actions and then complain about the consequences. I've lived in that parched place in the desert Jeremiah talks about, that salt land of self-pity. It's not a pretty environment.
Finding that suit inspires me to polish my old shoes rather than fussing about a new pair, to take a chicken from the freezer for dinner instead of ordering pizza, to send an extra prayer of thanks for the remaining produce in our garden as I make a fresh salad with the last cabbage, and to send an email to my daughter, telling her how much I love her.
I choose to be thankful for what I hold in my hand and for what is tucked away, unnoticed.
Contributed by Candace Simar
