“What’s God been teaching you through His Word?” I ask as we settle in, past the mundane of life. We’ve left behind kids, jobs, routines, and the cycle of activities that spin our lives.
It is this question, which brings a smile. The atmosphere changes from just friendship small talk to things that really matter, those moments when the older supposedly has something to contribute to one younger.
She rolls back her long hair thoughtfully. It reveals the smooth beauty of youth and sincerity of heart, of wanting to get it right, to express how God has been teaching and what she’s learning from it.
This question and its answer leave all the rest of our talk behind like insignificant clumps of dirt on a race track. In the quiet pondering, we are brought to the real race of our lives. Our hearts pump into the why and what.
After a pause she finds the answer. “Contentment.”
I sit up and take note.
Recently I’ve been smacked with comparisons. Those kind that scroll through the successes of others and seem to point, even shout out at my own dismal accomplishments.
“Look what I’ve done,” they say.
“Look what I’ve not done,” I answer.
And, as our conversation shifts, I find my inner being convicted. Challenged. Because what another learns, by the kindness and mercy of the Father, I learn too. More often than not, the second or third time.
And in her one word, I recognize my need. I’ve been getting sloppy in the contentment area.
Sometimes, what God teaches us once, we think we know. But we don’t. Another season comes, a different circumstance or trial, and we realize, it was just the beginning. We get another re-pass which teaches us the same truth in yet another way, reminding us that we haven’t yet arrived. There is more track to run, another lap, and we must run it well.Sometimes, what God teaches us once, we think we know. But it’s just a beginning. Share on X
Through the eyes of another’s experience, a much younger version, I am taught. Another piece of my own puzzle fits into place, where I didn’t even know it was missing.
And let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1b-2 NKJV)
These words, by the author of Hebrews follows up on a chapter of people who have run a faithful race. They’ve been strong, unwavering, and steadfast in the face of incredible trials.
The “race,“ Greek, “agon,” is where we get our English word “agony.” The Christian life isn’t a cake-walk or stroll in the park. It is at times pure agony.
Yet, through God’s grace and mercy in the life of another follower of Jesus, I recognize His repeated grace and mercy in mine. Because He is still teaching me. Again. Deeper.
I can almost feel the strength reaching down to my spiritually wobbly knees and weak muscles.
Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed. (Hebrews 12:12-13 NKJV)
I remember reading these very verses next to the hospital bed of my daughter. She lay paralyzed, unable to move or communicate, wavering between life and death. And those words felt like either hope or a cruel flirt with the future. Because I had no idea what answer awaited.
But, Jesus came alongside, without promise of outcome, but with the presence of His Person and His Church. All the time He taught, prodded my faith, and wrapped me in love.
And now, I again need to refocus my vision. To set my eyes on Jesus.
Like a child who sees Mamma across the church nursery and nothing can get in the way. With arms outstretched and cherub-faced joy, he runs.
For the Christ follower, contentment is in the Person toward whom we run.
…so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. (2 Corinthians 1:4 ESV)
The word “comfort” is also translated “to come alongside.” This is the way the body of Christ builds up one another.
My young friend pushes back another strand of hair, tucks it behind her ear, and smiles at the simplicity of looking to Jesus. God’s Spirit reaches into that piece of my heart which has been needing these very words. She is running alongside of me. I am running beside her.
He is still teaching me, molding me, training me. And together in Him we taste contentment.
* Feature Photo by Joel Muniz on Unsplash
Barbara Latta
Sylvia, I find that the more I learn, the more I don’t know. There is so much richness in Christ, the knowledge path is infinite. I’m sure your time with your friend was a blessing for both of you.