Last Sunday was my 22nd birthday. I spent it celebrating my best friend’s wedding, which was so special and so much fun! At the end of the day I was exhausted, but it was well worth the energy and time invested.
A little after 10:00 p.m., I was sitting in the Walmart parking lot after a late-night grocery shop when I realized that I had not yet posted my cliché birthday selfie on social media or sung the Taylor Swift song “22” with abundant (and appropriate) gusto. I quickly grabbed my phone and took care of the first task, then I pulled up YouTube. The song blasted through my speakers as I tried to sing along with the few lyrics I remembered. (I had to rewind it a few times to get it just right.)
All of a sudden in the midst of the chorus, I burst into tears. I had been warring with so many emotions throughout the day, but I didn’t take the time to stop and deal with them – instead, I kept suppressing them to focus on the people around me. Finally in this moment in my car, I let all my thoughts flow freely; my anxiety overwhelmed me.
This anxiety stemmed from selfish feelings of disappointment, loneliness, and insecurity. I turned off my music and vented to God:
“Father, why am I alone? Why is it too much to ask for a godly man to lead me? All I want is someone to make memories with, someone who appreciates me and loves me. Then I would be happy! Then I would be content!”
After crying desperately to Him, I took a deep breath to calm down. I couldn’t believe I was being so selfish, and that my selfishness had led to me crying on my birthday. Thankfully my gracious Father whispered back:
“Do you remember your birthday last year?”
I thought back to my 21st birthday. I spent it with my boyfriend at that time: my godly boyfriend who loved and appreciated and made memories with me. Yet, that day, too, had ended in tears, but for different reasons. I had cried to my boyfriend because I felt like I had been so selfish all day, letting him spend his attention, money, and time on just me. I wept considering how I could have spent my time serving others and being a witness and loving on God’s lost children. If I had only spent that time more selflessly, then I would have been content.
Do you see a pattern? In both scenarios I was lacking contentment. God was very blunt with me in that moment Sunday night. His gentle voice reminded me:
“You will not find contentment in anything or anyone else but Me.”
Wow. That will sober up a pity party pretty quickly!
Those words may not have been what I wanted to hear, but they were exactly what I needed to hear. I had forgotten that my purpose is to serve Christ rather than myself. I let comparison steal the joy in my heart, and I let the enemy rob me of the contentment I found in serving my Lord.
I should have turned to God’s Word to deal with my feelings earlier that day. I would have soon been reminded that Paul was so deeply consumed with his love for his Heavenly Father that he was content in all situations, whether that meant imprisonment, freedom, persecution, hunger, or blessing (Philippians 4). Paul passed this message (the importance of contentment in Christ) onto Timothy by reminding him that godliness with contentment leads to great gain (1st Timothy 6). The epistle to the Hebrews also talks of contentment, and elaborates by reminding the church of God’s unfailing love and support (Hebrews 13).
In essence, God has been so faithful. Have you ever just stopped and thought about how unbelievably amazing His grace is? How unmerited His favor? How unwavering His love? His holiness is steadfast and His mercy enduring. I love that He is jealous for my love so much that He would do whatever it takes to remove idols and fix my heart on Him.
Can you relate? Has God been asking you to surrender something so that you will rest and be content in His love for you? I pray that you and I will take the lyrics of Jimmy Needham’s “Clear the Stage” seriously, and that we would be willing to sacrifice anything in the world to please our Father. Let us have hearts like Abraham; let us have hearts like Jesus. Let it be so.
