I spent a good part of the weekend making useless plans. I planned a trip to New York, that we probably aren’t very serious about. I planned what kind of drawers would be best in my dream kitchen remodel. I researched the cost of a new couch, because maybe that’s what we need in the living room. I wasted a serious amount of time this weekend fueling my own discontentment.
Sometimes weekends are hard for me. I have a lot of expectations. That we will have plans, make memories, do fun things. And then we don’t. I wake up Saturday morning and life is just… regular. Someone wet the bed. Brothers are arguing. The floor is sticky. Shoes have gone missing. Dishes are still in the sink. Children are actually starving right in front of my eyes and need breakfast IMMEDIATELY or they will certainly die. There is yard work to be done. Errands to be run. Lunch to be made.
I don’t know where I get my weird expectations, but they creep in and kind of ruin everything. Because our weekend was just regular; because I felt like it wasn’t meeting my expectations, I started planning other things. Vacations we probably won’t take. Kitchens that we are nowhere near close to remodeling. Couches that we don’t need. I was painting every part of my life with big strokes of dissatisfaction. What. A. Mess.
The reality is, we had a really nice weekend. We took the kids out for ice cream on Saturday. We got the yard looking better. I refinished a table. We went to a really fun graduation party. The kids rode bikes. We had dinner with the family. It was a good weekend. My attitude colored it all wrong. It made my totally ungrateful and unable to see the good stuff. I stewed in my own mess for most of the weekend. It wasn’t until yesterday afternoon that I started to climb my way out of the pit I had dug.
Being discontent is all about me. It’s about me being a whining baby about what I think I should have. It’s entitlement at it’s worst. It is choosing to ignore the gifts that I’ve been given and hope for others. I sometimes feel like my son. When he was a little younger, he really struggled with receiving gifts well. If his grandparents said, “We brought you back a surprise from our trip” I believe his imagination skyrocketed to visions of the Lego Death Star, an Xbox, and perhaps a Corvette… because when they presented him with the thoughtful trinket from their travels he would always cry. “THIS ISN’T WHAT I WAS EXPECTING!”
Now is not the appropriate time to point out that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Thankyouverymuch. I know. I am a 5 year old. I see it. He is learning to choose gratitude. I am a little slower on the uptake. Isn’t that what my weekend was about? I was presented with some undeserved and awesome gifts, and instead I just kept paging through the Sears catalog, hoping for something else.
I don’t want to keep missing the gifts that God lays before me. I want to choose to be grateful. I want to recognize the wonderful and beautiful gifts that make this life awesome. Because this life really is awesome. As my good friend says, “All this and Jesus, too.”
Sometimes weekends are hard for me. I have a lot of expectations. That we will have plans, make memories, do fun things. And then we don’t. I wake up Saturday morning and life is just… regular. Someone wet the bed. Brothers are arguing. The floor is sticky. Shoes have gone missing. Dishes are still in the sink. Children are actually starving right in front of my eyes and need breakfast IMMEDIATELY or they will certainly die. There is yard work to be done. Errands to be run. Lunch to be made.
I don’t know where I get my weird expectations, but they creep in and kind of ruin everything. Because our weekend was just regular; because I felt like it wasn’t meeting my expectations, I started planning other things. Vacations we probably won’t take. Kitchens that we are nowhere near close to remodeling. Couches that we don’t need. I was painting every part of my life with big strokes of dissatisfaction. What. A. Mess.
The reality is, we had a really nice weekend. We took the kids out for ice cream on Saturday. We got the yard looking better. I refinished a table. We went to a really fun graduation party. The kids rode bikes. We had dinner with the family. It was a good weekend. My attitude colored it all wrong. It made my totally ungrateful and unable to see the good stuff. I stewed in my own mess for most of the weekend. It wasn’t until yesterday afternoon that I started to climb my way out of the pit I had dug.
Being discontent is all about me. It’s about me being a whining baby about what I think I should have. It’s entitlement at it’s worst. It is choosing to ignore the gifts that I’ve been given and hope for others. I sometimes feel like my son. When he was a little younger, he really struggled with receiving gifts well. If his grandparents said, “We brought you back a surprise from our trip” I believe his imagination skyrocketed to visions of the Lego Death Star, an Xbox, and perhaps a Corvette… because when they presented him with the thoughtful trinket from their travels he would always cry. “THIS ISN’T WHAT I WAS EXPECTING!”
Now is not the appropriate time to point out that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Thankyouverymuch. I know. I am a 5 year old. I see it. He is learning to choose gratitude. I am a little slower on the uptake. Isn’t that what my weekend was about? I was presented with some undeserved and awesome gifts, and instead I just kept paging through the Sears catalog, hoping for something else.
I don’t want to keep missing the gifts that God lays before me. I want to choose to be grateful. I want to recognize the wonderful and beautiful gifts that make this life awesome. Because this life really is awesome. As my good friend says, “All this and Jesus, too.”
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Colossians 3:15-17
(This was my wedding text! You'd think I'd get it by now!)
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