12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to
have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every
situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.
Philippians 4:12 (NIV)
A couple of
years after Ron’s car accident, I lamented to my friend, Debbie, “I want a different
life!” Debbie is a no-nonsense sort of gal and even though she loves me, she
did not hesitate in her response: “You need to get over that real quick. You have
the life you have.”
It certainly
wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I was already exhausted from caring for the
demands of an ill spouse and working three jobs to support us. It seemed as if
all my dreams—earning a doctorate, teaching college, writing a book—were being
dashed on the rocks of Ron’s needs.
I wanted a
way out.
Other
spousal caregivers feel the same. Caregiverstress.com is full of comments from
other men and women who deal daily with the overwhelming challenges of caring
for an ill spouse. We’re all handed the same spiel as we bundle our damaged
partners into our cars after a long hospital stay, told that care giving is a
noble pursuit and we will be blessed by our endeavors. Even our closest friends
offer the same platitudes: your reward is
in Heaven, God will never give you more than you can handle.
What no one
tells you is that care giving is back-breaking, gut-wrenching, mentally
exhausting, and emotionally draining labor. The first few days home from hospital
will find neighbors, friends, and relatives arriving with casseroles and cards.
But eventually, you are left alone with your ill spouse to make an adjustment
to a life that no amount of pre-marital counseling could have prepared you for.
Where does
one find contentment when the very thought of emptying one more bedpan and
mopping up one more mess makes you want to scream?
“This isn’t”,
I told my friend Debbie, “the life I planned for.”
And I’m not alone. The Apostle Paul, writing from his prison cell, lived a life far different from the one he’d planned. In Great Lion of God, Taylor Caldwell’s meticulous research into the life of Saul of Tarsus paints the picture of a privileged and intellectual Pharisee, a Roman citizen raised as a scholar of Hebrew scriptures.
But Paul
died a martyr’s death.
Not really
what he’d planned on.
Yet Paul,
quite literally owning not one thing, not even his freedom, was able to find
contentment in his prison cell, writing to the Philippians, “I have learned the
secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry,
whether living in plenty or in want.”
Learning to
be content is not a natural process. Our modern world would convince us that
contentment is found in the latest tech gadgets or the newest cars, but
contentment cannot be bought. It is simply learning that God is, no matter
what, in control.
What was the
secret Paul had learned? How can those of us who find ourselves caught in a situation
we never trained for find contentment with our lives?
1. Keep your focus on the Lord. Remember
when Jesus called Peter to step out of the boat and onto the water? (Matthew
14:28-30) Peter only started sinking when he took his eyes off Jesus.
2. Do what God has called you to do. Abraham
could have lived a life of luxury in Haran with all his flocks and household,
but when God called him to move on (Genesis 12:1-3), Abraham did so.
3. Thank God daily for His sufficiency.
Learn to live with what God has provided, be it a lot or a little. Corrie ten
Boom, who rescued many Jewish people during the Holocaust, was taught by her
father that “God owns the cattle on a thousand hills. When we need something, we
will just ask God to sell a cow.” (Psalm 50:10)
4. Love the Lord with all your heart (Matthew
22:37). Jesus teaches this is the way to true contentment.
It’s been 18
years since the accident that changed our lives and my conversation with my
friend. Caring for my husband is still a daily challenge. Some days are harder
than others and I need to work at finding contentment when the cost of Ron’s
medications has gone up again and I feel like I cannot possibly run up the
steps one more time.
But if I
move the focus from myself, if I rest my weary body in the sufficient strength
of God, if I take a few moments on the back deck with a second cup of tea, I
feel contentment creep over me.
It’s not the
life I planned. It is the life I am called to. And within this life, I have earned
a doctorate, taught college, and written books.
God is
sufficient.