Content/Complacent

What is the difference between contentment and complacency? Where does content end and blur into complacent? Am I generally content, or am I deceiving myself and if you listen closely to all of my pep talks, you'll hear the sound of a silly woman who is just complacent?

Hard business this conte-mplacent...

I want to be content with what I have, I don't want to be complacent with what I do with what I have. In theory. But take our car. Beloved Green Bus. I love this car. I love to drive it, sitting up high, stomping through the puddles that the byzantine drainage system in this city leaves in the wake of rain. I love that it's old, a gift from my in-laws, and that I know where each scratch derives.

But I dream of new wheels, what will be our next car, like we're riding this continuum of vehicular ownership, one to which we're entitled. So I'm really not content, am I? I'm embarrassed by the damage Loverpants did to both sides of it. I am embarrassed that this damage was never properly fixed or even an attempt made to paint over it, which is evidence of my own complacency, my own resortings to "That's just how it's going to be."

I've been so blessed in this life, way way beyond any measure of deserving, and yet, I have a strong faith in something better. A place of flourish and blessing so much more profoundly amazing than this world can hope to offer. Which is why I don't want to stay content or complacent. I want to be faithful in what I believe and hopeful for what is to come. Where a perfect contentment might be known. Where no one is complacent, for they live as angels.

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But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: why God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he has prepared for them a city. ~ Hebrews 11:16

Preachin'

On the way to church on Saturday, I began to feel deflated, like my usually jocund spirits had been pricked with a pin. I knew exactly why. I had to preach and it was the work of the enemy trying to discourage me. The irony is that the sermon I delivered was on the topic of encouragement. Fortunately, the churchies gave me many smiles and great feedback afterwards, which encouraged me even further. Here's a quick note from the sermon:

In Exodus 17, Israel is still wandering in the wilderness. They run out of water. They blame Moses. God tells Moses to tap his stick against a rock and wouldn't you know, water starts to flow. In verse 7, the people name that place Massah and Meribah to note that this was a place that Israel tested God.

But down in verse 15, God helps Israel triumphs once again (this time over an enemy territory called Amalek). This time, Moses built an altar and called it "The Lord is my Banner."

I was convicted by this contrast. In the map of my life, do I consider the places I have been as places where I did something (such as being a complaining, sullen malcontent?) or do I recall the places where God did something to show His care for me?

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Did I ever show y'all a picture of me with my churchies? Here's one from just before we got married a few years ago. I call this picture "Where's Kendra?"

Peace and Panda Feet

I found something very valuable, maybe even priceless while I was in Michigan last month. I had lost it by the time I arrived at Logan airport, dizzied by the wicked whir of Boston, stifled by the summer smog. But I've been looking for it still. Around my house, in sunny patches of warmth on our patio.

You see, I really felt the peace of God when I was in Michigan. I can remember when I felt that feeling. I was upstairs sitting in my husband's boyhood bedroom and holding a sleeping wee one. And I really felt God touching my heart and giving me such peace and contentment.

Of course I lost that feeling. And I didn't lose it between the cushions of the couch, no, I can't just Swiffer out the dust bunnies under the bed and lo, "Oh, there you are God! I was looking all o--"

This morning I was stricken with a pain in my right hip, pain that has been chronic since my pregnancy. I got up just before dawn and did some yoga. And then just moments before the wee one cockadoodled, I paused and prayed on the rainbow rug, and I felt that presence of God once more. I was reminded, there, surrounded by Fisher Price-a-palooza, that God was there, in the midst of my responsibilities caked in rice cereal. I just wasn't listening for Him hard enough, the din of my distress had been so deafening.

Incline thine ear, and hear the words of the wise, And apply thy heart unto my knowledge. - Prov. 22: 17

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Oh, look what else I found...

Please don't feed the pandas.

Try not to crush them either....