Life has me wondering if I can ever really be content.
I recently had a consultation with a psychologist, under the suspicion that I was experiencing levels of performance anxiety that were not normal. From our short, informal conversation about what makes me think something’s wrong, and how I think it started, he told me that I have a pretty typical story of a genuine problem with perfectionism.
And then the internal dialogue begins: if I really have this type of mental disorder, how am I going to reach the goals that I have for myself? I have some very grand ambitions, but if I’m getting stuck on the little things that are supposed to take me there…
The day before, I decided to become a mentor. I had been through the war of my thoughts telling me I’m not good enough, but resolved to trust God to make up the difference. The day after that convo, I called a friend about becoming my own mentor. There was no doubt I needed it for myself now.
This morning, as I’m thinking about this idea of pursuing contentment, I’m thinking, what does that really mean to me? For me, it means can I be ok, can I be genuinely satisfied with Jesus Christ as the biggest thing in my life? Just Jesus Christ. My relationship with Him, His love for me, His care for me, and His grace for me. Can I really say “I could make more money, but Jesus”, or “I could just do what makes me feel good, but Jesus”, or “this is what I want to do with my life, this is how I feel, but Jesus”?
I don’t even know if this can make sense if you haven’t been here yourself. Contentment is not something pop culture celebrates or talks about much, but it’s something real life has me thinking about like never before. And I’m thankful.