The Contents of Contentment

I was at the grocery store looking for paper plates when I saw, on the top shelf, two jars. One was large and one was small. Each had the word CONTENMENT printed on its label. I took down the small jar and looked at the ingredients: spouse, children, house, clothes, cars, vacations, sundries. I put the small jar back up and took down the large jar; the ingredients were the same.

Well, the choice between a large jar of contentment and a small jar seemed easy enough. I placed the large jar in my cart and continued shopping.

At home I put the groceries away and at last took out the jar of CONTENTMENT. I twisted off the lid and pulled out a large, spacious, updated home. There were two cars in the driveway, and each room was filled to the hilt with clothes, comfortable furniture, modern appliances and gadgets, toys, and such.

I saw on the calendar that we were soon due for a splendid family vacation in the Caribbean. I also saw that I was to report to my new job on Monday. So a few days later I dropped the kids off at school and arrived for my first day of work.

Work was only a little stressful. In the late afternoon I picked my kids up from the afterschool program, swung by the local Italian eatery to pick up dinner, and went home. After a week of this routine, I was more than ready for the weekend. After a month, I was more than ready for vacation.

The trip was wonderful: sandy beaches, sunshine, boat rides, delicious food, memories to last a lifetime. The price tag was immense, but the trip was worth it.

A few months later I was finally able to begin buying nearly every thing and experience I’d ever wanted. The cost of it all was high, but I was motivated to work harder to buy ALL the things and experiences our family could ever want.

Life went back to normal. School, work, sports on repeat. On weekends we ate scrumptious food at our favorite cafes and restaurants and visited aquariums, museums, and parks. Oftentimes we rushed from one of the kids’ sporting events to some other commitment.

After almost a year of working 40-50 hours a week at my job, which was certainly fulfilling, I realized both my brain and my body were more than a little tired. But aren’t all Americans tired? I shrugged it off and kept on going.

My neighbor was having surgery but I barely had time to make dinner for my own family, let alone hers. So I had a large restaurant meal delivered to my friend’s house. I texted her to get well soon. She was very appreciative. I patted myself on the back for being so generous.

I got word from one of my kid’s teachers that he was behind in reading and needed extra help at home. Also, my other kid (who is mentally handicapped) was beginning to scratch and hit his peers and teachers. I got home that night and threw together a quick dinner. Afterwards I helped my son with his reading homework, but it was clear that we’d need to work on this for more than one night; it would have to be a daily lesson. I told my other son that it is not okay to hit and scratch. He nodded in agreement not to do it again.

Another year passed and I was even more tired. Bone weary, actually. Wake up early, give my kids lunch money when they ask for a homemade lunch, drive them to school, fight traffic to get to work, work with critics and goons and a few good guys and gals, rush to pick the kids up, hurry home, kick off my shoes and make a fast meal in my work clothes, help with homework, impatiently admonish bad behavior, put the kids to bed, tell my husband I’m too tired to talk or get intimate, then fall into a fitful sleep.

On weekends we rushed from one event to another as I tried to keep up on housework, chores, and errands in between.

Life was going by so quickly and what had I to show for it? A big house with a big mortgage, yes. Two cars with two car payments, yes. Two kids whose eyes I barely looked into anymore because we were so rushed doing things and going places. A husband with a cranky wife. Lots of unhealthful and expensive restaurant meals and few meals, if any, eaten together as a family. Is this what I was working for? Yes. The American dream. I had to pursue it because that’s what Americans do. It’s the only way.

Then the day came when my children overheard me telling someone, “I LOVE my job! It brings so much satisfaction! And the vacations we go on – they make all the hard work worth it.”

Later that day it was my turn to overhear something. It was my son telling his friend, “My mom finds more satisfaction spending time with her co-workers than with me. She finds more satisfaction in making money than in spending her days with me. She thinks I want fancy vacations, but all I want is for her to catch frogs and fly kites like the old days. She used to be relaxed and patient but now she’s usually not.”

That was it. I immediately crammed the house, cars, and stuff back into the large jar and took it back to the store where I muttered something about “false advertising.” I exchanged it for the small jar which I took home and unpacked right away.  

The house was by no means spacious. The art hadn’t been updated in a while. The furniture was comfortable but a bit dated. The cars were bought used, with cash, years ago. I looked at the calendar: no job, no luxury vacation.

The kids woke up whenever they wanted to, 7 days a week. We ate a lazy breakfast together, 7 days a week. In fact, we ate a leisurely meal together 21 times a week. Between meals we did chores alongside one another, ran errands together, caught frogs, flew kites, learned about the life cycle of butterflies, and did fraction math using cups of flour and beans while making a meal for the neighbor who recently had surgery.

We took that meal, and many others, to neighbors, friends, and acquaintances who found themselves in a tough spot for one reason or another. The kids and I spent time talking with them, praying with them, and sometimes even doing a few of their chores so they’d have one less thing to worry about. When we heard that someone was hurting, we’d stop right there and pray for them. Life was not rushed.

We gave some money to charity, but with one income it was harder. So we spent our time and energy instead of money. The kids learned the value of hard work and selflessness when they mowed an ailing neighbor’s yard, or when they picked up trash along the roadside, or when we packed boxes of food to give to needy families. A couple of times, we even had homeless people over for a meal and a shower.

Years went by like this. Our days were mostly relaxed and filled with reading, running around outside, finding bugs and then reading up to learn facts about them, dancing to music together, talking about the Maker of all things beautiful, and praising Him every day for some blessing or new discovery. Lying in the grass or eating a sandwich by a sunny stream, we spent a lot of time looking into each other’s eyes and listening to each other’s thoughts.

It wasn’t perfect, of course. There were times when one kid had trouble with a certain subject, so we simply spent a bit more time trying to figure it out. No rushing, minimal frustration – just patience and lots of time. The other kid would develop a behavior issue, so we addressed it on the spot.

It was a joy to be my kids’ teacher. I had a front-row seat for every good thing in their lives: when the lightbulbs turned on the moment they understood a difficult concept, when pride spread across their little faces when they finally mastered some skill they’d long been working on. It was worth more than any amount of money I could earn at a “real job.”

We learned sincerely how to get along with one another because, when we’re together night and day for years on end, we have to get along.

We had beach vacations all right, complete with sand, sun, delicious food, and lifelong memories. We also hiked through mountains, rode bikes through forests, and visited museums, aquariums, and parks. Our vacations were mostly simple trips to places near home. Nothing lavish, nothing too expensive. But the kids still talk about them now, years later, and how much fun we had together.

During all those growing-up years, I read the Bible to the boys as they ate breakfast each morning. We came across many verses like the following, and, while we were certainly not perfect, we knew we were pleasing the heart of God because we were seeking first the Kingdom of God rather than seeking our own bodily pleasure and comfort:

Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. – Colossians 3:2

Godliness with contentment is great gain. – 1 Timothy 6:6

Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content. – 1 Timothy 6:7

Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation…and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction – 1 Timothy 6:9

For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil, for which some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. – 1 Timothy 6:10

Take heed and beware, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.” – Jesus in Luke 12:15

If riches increase, do not set your heart on them. – Psalm 62:10b

You say, ‘I am rich, I have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’ – and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked” (spiritually speaking) – Revelation 3:17

One bright winter Tuesday afternoon, as we built a hopelessly lopsided snowman in the backyard, I asked my boys, “Do you ever miss having the things so many of your friends have? A large house, nice cars, lots of clothes and toys, and vacations to faraway places?”

Both sons stopped and looked me full in the face to see if I was serious. My older son said, “Do you mean to ask if we regret having you around to play? To teach us reading and writing and math? To teach us how to spend our time serving God by serving others in love and patience? Do you mean to ask if we regret having homecooked meals each night? Mom, do you mean to ask if we regret having you there each and every time we were angry or scared, so you could talk through our feelings with us? And pray with us? And guide us?” He looked at his handicapped, non-verbal brother, then smiled and continued, “I think I can speak for both of us boys when I say that the answer is no, Mom. We don’t regret missing out on the nicest stuff money can buy. You and Dad gave us instead all the things money can’t buy.”

My eyes filled up with tears and I wiped them away with a gloved hand. “I know I wasn’t perfect, but I did what I knew to be best.”

“Your reward will be great in heaven, Mom. And because of your example, the two of us are on the right path, too. We’ll be in heaven with you and Dad enjoying those same rewards. Now stop blubbering and put the carrot nose on this guy.” We finished the snowman and went inside for hot chocolate.

After that day, I went to the store and bought all the small jars of CONTENTMENT I could find and ordered a hundred more. As gently and lovingly as I knew how, I offered the jars to everyone – loved ones, friends, neighbors, acquaintances. Some wanted to know more. Some scoffed and sneered. Some told me I was judgmental for even suggesting there could be a more God-pleasing way.

In the end, some accepted the small jar and its contents. Many came back months and years later to thank me for sharing a better way. Life for the Small Jar People was certainly not perfect, but it sure was unrushed and contented.

Statistics show that the more time parents spend with their kids, the less likely their kids are to experience depression, anxiety, drug use, and unplanned pregnancy. So it was no surprise that quite an enormous number of the Large Jar People went on to add to their jars: wayward children, depression, anxiety, hypertension, insomnia, divorce.

I don’t judge them. I don’t win cosmic brownie points for converting them to Small Jar People. Really, my heart often aches for them. For their children. I see that for many who suffer, their mental and emotional health, and those of their children, could have been radically improved if only they’d gone another way.

The small jar doesn’t look enticing from the exterior because it is not full of the “treasures on earth.” But it is filled with more worth than anyone on the outside can imagine, because it is filled with people seeking to please God by seeking “first the kingdom of God and His righteousness” which means we’re laying up for ourselves “treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19; 33; 20). It is filled with contentment.

The contents of CONTENTMENT are humble to be sure, but the return on investment is the best in the universe. Guaranteed.