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.
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
If you’ve never witnessed someone learning to crawl, believe me when I tell you that it is full of profundities, symbolism, and chapped little chubby knubs. I’ve been watching and rallying Baby Girl to operate all those gears and levers at the right times MOVE THOSE CHAINS for a few weeks now, and I’m completely captivated. The arranging of limbs, the leveraging of different weights, the looking up with those eyes, hungry for approval. Then the bleating frustration of getting stuck with one leg akimbo. And then, just as you think she’s ready to … yeah! That’s it, Baby Gir— Face plant.
Reminds me a lot of my twenties.
I got an envelope in the mail yesterday with a check enclosed. It wasn’t a birthday card, but it may as well have been. It was my first paycheck from the community newspaper. My first payment – ever – for something I had written as a freelance reporter. I earned it, and yet it felt like a gift.
I’ve been crawling through my twenties and I have to say this latter half has been a much smoother, more joyful, much more rewarding coast. There have been a few false starts and plenty of face plants but I feel as though I’m getting the hang of it all, keeping the weights and strains in balance, not focusing so freaking much on the onlookers for approval. I’ve found a good rug upon which to practice, and maybe soon, I’ll even be ready to stand to advance toward my twirites. But even then, it’ll be in baby steps….
I have chosen Ephesians 1:7-8 as the theme for my year in case you want to share in memorizing it with me!