Contentment often seems like the golden snitch of life, fluttering and flying about, only being grasped by the truly worthy and the truly gifted. Which means I must be neither because although I can point to moments where I experience contentment, it has not been the undergirding current of my life.
For those lost on the Harry Potter reference, the golden snitch is a small ball played in the game of Quidditch in the Harry Potter fantasy world. It is the most important ball in the game for the game can only end once the snitch has been caught by the Seeker. And seeing as it’s the most important ball in the game, it makes sense that it is also the hardest to catch.
Contentment often feels like the golden snitch: highly important and valuable for success but ever elusive and hard to seize. The reality is that some people actually have, or seem to have, caught this sought after prize. They walk around confident and at peace, their lives stabilized, their faith secure, and their joy fulfilled.
I’m not one of those people. I think I’ve wanted to be one of those people for while and I’ve tried to be, act and fit in with those people; but I’m not. I’m not content. I’ve experienced contentment here and there, but I cannot say contentment has colored my existence thus far.
Instead, I have longings and desires I crave to be fulfilled and see no opportunity for such. I have wants and urges and impulses I attempt to bring to the feet of my Savior daily, all the while wondering how long, oh Lord. I experience dull soul aches and pains of past mistakes and shames that creep up nightly as my soul and mind attempt to rest. I have doubts, questions, fears, and concerns that have yet to find an answer that quiets them. This is my reality, more often than I want to admit it.
But that’s the problem, really. We don’t admit it. We think everyone else around us has contentment, and since we don’t, we feel the need to lie about it. Instead of owning up to the fact that we actually hate our singleness, or that we feel so much like a failure at being a first-time parent, or that we can’t seem to get past this sin that constantly comes back for us, we lie. We hide. Somewhere along the way we got the false message that good Christians always suffer well. That they always take their discipline on the chin, head and hands to the sky, thanking the Father for their suffering while their hearts explode with joy.
While this may be true at times, it’s not always the case. Paul asks 3 times for his thorn to be taken. Elijah swore the Lord had left him and sentenced him to death. David fought often with his own soul over whether the Lord was actually on his side. What I appreciate most about these men and many others is the fact that they didn’t lie. They didn’t act like they weren’t in pain, in confusion, or in anger towards God. They didn’t save face to keep up with their peers. They weren’t content in their circumstances and they made it known.
We need to stop lying. God doesn’t need your strength, for He is glorified in your weakness. He’s not looking for those who struggle well; He just wants those who can admit they are struggling. God is not impressed with our ability to handle suffering. Faith pleases Him, and faith in discontentment leans on the Lord, asking, begging and pleading the blood of Jesus over their life. Sometimes the answer is to have the trial taken away; other times it’s simply to keep going. Faith, though, is not lying. It is not acting as if you like your life while bitterness secretly eats away at you. It is not posting bible verses on social media that you barely believe yourself. It is humbling yourself by casting your cares onto the Lord. Casting is admitting, not lying.
I’m thankful for my salvation. I’m grateful for what the Lord has given me. The Lord is Sovereign. He is compassionate. Abounding in steadfast love. But even in all of these truths, I can’t say I’m fully content with my life right now. I still have longings unfulfilled, desires unmet and questions about my pain that still seem unanswered. So today I admit I wish my life was different, while asking The Lord for the grace to accept the life I’ve been given. I’ve just simply decided to start talking about it. You should too.