Over the years, when my man has come to me with “an idea” it usually has caused me to cringe just a tad. I’m not sure why, because he has proven to be worthy of a few good ones.
A while back, he stumbled upon ten acres of land under foreclosure. It had been a dream of ours to move from the subdivision to a place in the country where we could hear ourselves think. We journeyed up a gravel road to check out the piece of property. The thrill waned at the sight of an abandoned doublewide trailer.
The shock on my face caused my man to speak quickly. “Rhonda, I could gut this place and we could live here while our home is being built. Then my mother could live here after we move in our home.”
His heart was definitely in the right place and I knew he was gifted enough to achieve his goals. So within six months, we left our 5,000 square foot home in the suburb to move our family of six into 1,200 square feet of coziness.
Then the unexpected came.
A phone call announced that my thirty-two year career in pharmaceutical sales had ended. The entire sales force was laid off. Troy and I sat in silence, unsure of what to say. Fear riddled our minds with questions…
What do we do now?
Can we afford to build our home?
It’s been six years since that night. Today, I sit writing in the quaint little office of our doublewide, now fondly called our Taj Mahal. The neighbors surrounding us live in million dollar homes and my mother continues to ask the question, “Do you wish you had never moved?”
Christmas mornings are difficult to bear when our children are home from college. I try hard to make everything perfect around the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Yet, all I can think about is the proud, nine-foot Douglas fir stored with all of our beautiful, glistening ornaments.
I wish we had a roaring fire…
I need more counter space…
I made the decision to retire from pharmaceuticals that night. I partnered with my man in his window coverings business to sell window treatments. Interestingly enough, I walk daily into gorgeous homes with bathrooms that have a tub perched on claw feet and bath salts prepared to offer a place of serenity.
Oh if only I could have a bubble bath…
Lord, I want a bathroom like this…
Literally, I have found myself standing alone in front of a stranger’s tub having a moment of silence as though mourning a loss. Really? What was wrong with me? Finally, I came to my senses. I was the problem. In thinking about what I didn’t have, I could not see what I had in abundance. My thoughts had driven me into despair and it was affecting my overall perspective.
The Bible says this: “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.” Philippians 4:8
The Lord gently reminded me of how I loved the little home I grew up in, which was only 800 square feet. Memories of mission trips flooded my mind of the one room homes filled with love. My man built our humble abode with his hands and the entire property is paid in full. “Dwell on these things,” my Father in heaven whispered.
“Make sure your character is free from the love of money, being content with what you have…” Hebrews 13:5
Here is the tough question. What about you? Do you need to find contentment with what you have?