Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it. So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content. —1 Timothy 6:6-8 NLT

I look at her text in disbelief. This friend, miles away, has just been told that her beloved husband of almost fifty years most likely won’t recover. He’s being placed on palliative care. Tears stream down my face. I realize that as she walks away from his hospital bed to perhaps grab something to eat or go home for a quick shower, she will never again experience the simple joy of having his arm around her at day’s end or his presence sitting across from her at the breakfast table, just quietly there. The daily routines of life with her partner are most likely over. My heart crumples at the thought, and I weep.

Ray comes home from work, and all of a sudden, I really see him. This man, my beloved husband of almost fifty years, is here with me. How am I so blessed to have him? How often do I take him for granted? How many days have I wasted, oblivious to this treasure who is my companion? I hold him tightly and welcome him home. I stroke his cheek and smile into his eyes. Ray does not know exactly what has happened to me, but he likes it. Lord, forgive me for taking Ray’s presence for granted. I don’t know how long we’ll have together, but help me treasure it and bless this good and faithful man who has been by my side for decades. Forgive me for my carelessness. Forgive my crass disregard for the beautiful, mundane sharing of life with Ray. Help me love him better and value him more.

I visit a friend who is suffering from crippling pain, waiting endlessly for surgery to help mitigate it. We sit for five minutes, then we stand, then we walk. She constantly shifts positions, trying to endure. She guides the conversation away from herself and the pain, and we talk about other things that distract from her daily reality. I can’t imagine the endless days of waiting. Oh, my heart is heavy for this dear one.

The next day finds me striding along with my trusty little pup, Bella, admiring a horse farm and the mist softly rolling over the autumn New Hampshire hills. Suddenly, I am struck as I realize just how blessed I am to be able to stride. To move and go where I want without excruciating pain. Forgive my calloused heart, Lord. I assume health and energy are my rights. They are not. I only breathe because You, the Author of life, keep that breath of life alive in me. For now, You have blessed me with good health and strong legs. Thank You for the ability to walk. Thank You for the beauty all around me right here in my own neighborhood.

I don’t need grand adventures, wonderful trips, or wealth showered on me to find joy. It’s right here in the morning sunlight, in a warm cup of tea, in the soft fur of a tiny pup nestled in my lap, and the dimpled grin of a husband who has just cracked a corny joke.

May I truly see the beauty, the wonder, the privilege of this mundane, marvelous life! I know I will not be exempt from suffering and pain. It has come to me in the past and will come again. But for today? I will notice the very good in my ordinary life and treasure it as the gold it truly is.

Thank You, Lord, for all Your simple gifts. Give me the godly contentment Paul urges Timothy to choose, and teach me to be content with all You have given me. Thank You, Lord. In Jesus’ Name, my Savior and greatest treasure, Amen.

You are loved,
Sharon

Sweet Selah Ministries

Vision
To inspire a movement away from the belief that “busy is better”
and toward the truth of God’s Word that stillness and knowing
Him matter most—and will be reflected in more effective work and service

Mission
To offer biblical resources and retreats that help women pause (Selah)
and love God more deeply as they know Him more intimately (Sweet)

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Click over to our Donation page … and thanks.

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