Contentment

In college I decided that a day would not go by that I should be content. Should...what a loaded word. I began asking God to stir discontent in me so as not to become too comfortable and therefore let my faith become stagnant. You see, I was convinced that if I rested in the present, my faith would digress into a shlubbish and unintentional mess.

I entered my seminary journey with this idea in mind.  In my first spiritual formation class, I voiced my perspective and genuinely thought that if I ever felt content, I wasn't being intentional enough with my faith. Tsk tsk tsk, thou shall never be content.

The couple years I've been in seminary have completely shattered this "conviction." What began as an authentic desire to continue growing and deepening my understanding of God, myself, and this complicated world became a daunting, overwhelming, and exhausting task. My first year in seminary was full of "mirror" moments, when I was presented with a new perspective on my life and the shaping of it. I finally confronted myself in a way that not only allowed me to see, but go to, the places of my being that are dark, lonely, and broken. This work on the self is intentional in the program I am in, and while the pain sometimes run so deep, it has been a journey I will never regret.

I could reflect on so many things I have learned about myself over these past couple years, but one of the most important lessons I have learned is to trust the process. Over and over again our professors remind us of the importance of the process. Living in Minnesota, I have the privilege of experiencing the changes of seasons in all their glory...30 degrees below zero, and 100 degrees above with humidity that I can swim through (as is the case today). As I've learned to trust the process of knowing myself and God better, I've developed a new-found appreciation for winter. Winter is a time of hibernation and rest, and each year I can anticipate the life and excitement that surrounds the warming of spring. As I've learned to trust the process, I've also developed a new-found appreciation for contentment. There is a time for us to hibernate and rest in God's presence...in the present. I need not always look forward in such a way that ceases to reflect on the past and be present in the here and now. Instead, it's okay to...truly trust the process.

Today I am reminded again of the ways in which I can be content with God in the present. This need not mean that I am complacent, lazy, or otherwise unintentional - I can be content with God in the present and also be cognizant of the ways I can grow - but it's important for me to trust the pains, the winter, the process. It's okay to be content.