Are you as contented as a 2-year-old?

A dozen years ago I was on our deck serving an early morning breakfast to my oldest grandchild, Bauer, 2½. Thanks to my husband’s green thumb, the deck was bursting with beautiful blooms and as I stumbled around, chiding my foggy brain to wake up, little Bauer let out a small toddler sigh.

“It’s lovely out here,” he said with a sweet smile. “We have everything we need.”

Ah, contentment.

A bowl of multigrain Cheerios with milk, a Lightning McQueen sippy cup of juice, the beauty of nature, and a day with grandma—what more could you possibly want?

Maybe a clear PET scan? Perhaps a day without turmoil? How about not struggling with depression? No more medicine side-effects would be nice. An insurance company that didn’t balk at paying for what the doctor ordered would be really great.

It’s difficult to have childlike contentment when we live in a grown-up world where in the U.S. alone, a new cancer diagnosis is made every 30 seconds and  someone is identified with Alzheimer’s every 65 seconds. On top of those sobering statistics, every second the political fight rages around us seemingly unabated.

It’s not easy to find contentment while watching ourselves or a loved one deal with  physical/emotional/mental assault.

I remember many years ago, our dear friends, Don and Jean, found their world turned upside down when she was diagnosed with inoperable, stage 4 non-small cell  lung cancer. The retired schoolteachers frantically began searching for contentment.

“I was shocked,” she told me at the time. “I thought I was too healthy to get cancer. I was doing all the ‘right’ things to be a healthy person—never smoking, eating right, exercising, weight control, regular checkups and all that.”

After that frightening diagnosis, both Don and Jean tried to live in the moment, but the admonition to “take one day at a time” was “the opposite” of their teaching careers.

“As teachers we always had to look ahead and plan for another day,” they explained.

Learning to live one day at a time—and live it to the fullest (like contentedly watching a Maine vacation sunset)—was not an easy task.

“I think both of us in our own way just turned this whole thing over to God,” Don recalled. “For me it was putting total faith in His plan—knowing it’s a perfect plan—even if I didn’t understand it all.”

I’ve thought often about my grandson’s contented sentiment, especially mornings when I sit down with my to-do list, ready to organize everything that I think needs to be done that day! Sometimes I pause, smile to myself and say: “It’s lovely here and we have everything we need.”

Perhaps that’s a sentiment with which you could start your day?  The words of a toddler could be described as childish, but if you have total faith in a loving God, they can become childlike trust.

I remember that peaceful feeling when my newly delivered, just-nursed firstborn slept in my arms. All the hours of terrible back labor and exhaustion were forgotten. The future still was unknown, but with the psalmist I could say:

Of one thing I am certain: my soul has become calm, quiet, and contented in You.
Like a weaned child resting upon his mother, I am quiet. 
Psalm 131:2 The Voice Bible

And on this promise I still can rest:

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said,
“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

 It is lovely here in my soul and with God I have everything I need.
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Please open in your browser to hear the music video “If I Got Jesus” by Ben Fuller. (I liked the words and music so much, I decided to ignore the grammar mistakes! 🙂 )