Contentment vs. Complacency

Sometimes there is a hard line to walk between contentment and complacency, I think.

As I mentioned a couple posts ago, I was recently offered a job with that organization I applied to last fall, and I declined it.  I'm confident I made the right decision.  The timing just wasn't quite right.

It was an odd decision to make, though, because--once again--I found my life being directed towards, well, nothing that looks like anything "exciting".  It's basically more of the same of what I do now.  So I found myself wondering whether I was choosing to pass up the new job because keeping my current one is just simpler.  And it made me start second-guessing whether all those past things I had interpreted as "closed doors" were actually just my own lack of initiative, my own unwillingness to face the challenges of something new.

As I wrestled with these questions, it became clear to me that the two options--the new job vs. moving back to Oregon--were becoming a secondary dichotomy in my mind: the "responsible" choice (consistency, benefits, room for career growth) vs. the "fun" choice (flexibility, people I already know and love, travel plans).

For, weird as it may seem to some people, including myself some days, I'm really liking my life--job included--right now.  Which is where the fine line between contentment and complacency becomes relevant.  Surely being happy in a job I'm overqualified for, outside my obvious "gifting", with no real opportunity to advance, is a sign I'm settling, right?  I often find I don't give myself full permission to relax and enjoy right now for what it is, because relaxing is too much like giving up.

But recently, I have been considering the difference between "giving up on" and "letting go of", and find the distinction to be monumental.  Releasing my own expectations of how God should use me--complete with its rather over-inflated sense of personal destiny--does not require me to give up my loves or gifts or desires.  It just means I give them back to God, to do with as He will.  And with that release comes an immense freedom to be where I am and love where I am.  I can eagerly expect God to do great things and to bring me to a "better fit" for myself and my gifts while also recognizing that God's idea of "great things" and a "good fit" may be radically different than my own in this moment.  And I can know that that's okay, too, because He's God.  And I'm not.

It's interesting: I had always thought I was making myself available to God because I was willing to travel far and live in difficult conditions and sacrifice many luxuries.  But I’m coming to see that I was still making myself as unavailable as the rich man who says “I’ll follow you if you don’t make me sell my stuff,” or the comfortable guy who says “I’ll follow you if you don’t make me do something dangerous.”  My ultimatum was just nobler in my own eyes: “I’ll follow you if you don’t make me do something boring, or unimportant.

I tell God, “Here I am, send me anywhere!” but squirm as I hear Him say, “Anywhere?  Even where you already are?”  I tell Him, “Here I am, I’ll do anything!” and hear Him say, “Anything?  Even this job that seems so insignificant?  Even these things that look like ‘nothing’ to the world, and to yourself?"

And those questions are hard for me to answer.

Obviously, stretching situations are important, and to be sought.  But, in many ways, this "not doing anything exciting" is stretching for me.  I am having firmly to declare the object of my worship: my own adventurous plans to serve God, or God Himself.  And I think my faith--in Him, in His plans, in His goodness, in His all-sufficiency--is in some ways being tested and grown more through this period of stillness than it would be if the heavens opened and He told me to sell all my possessions and move to Bangladesh tomorrow.

And there is such rest when we release our plans to Him.  Whatever inconsistencies and false motivations and sins clog our decision-making, God in His crazy grace remembers that we are dust and honors our efforts to serve and obey Him.  And we don’t have to have perfect motives for God to use us (or else He never could).  And even if we make the “wrong” choice, God will not abandon us in our foolishness, but will still work it into something beautiful, to His glory.

That's pretty darn fantastic.

Indeed, perhaps the prize of contentment and the risk of complacency are not related in the way I first proposed.  Perhaps the only place to fear complacency is in our pursuit of God, because--when we seek Him first, and live within His will--we are free to be deeply contented regardless of whether the world recognizes our efforts as valid or not.

So, here's to the adventure of life in Christ.  ...Even when it looks like it's leading us to where we already are.

The Cube (or more accurately, The Rectangular Prism)

All packed!

Hopefully, it's now in storage somewhere in Bel Air, Maryland, until I tell them where to send it...

Changes

So, a lot has happened since my last post: the house I'm living in has sold, I received (and declined) a job opportunity with the same organization I applied to last fall, and I am now packed and ready to head back to the West Coast for a bit.

It all happened quite fast.  But it's good.  I'm excited.  Crazy fun things await me on my home coast.

I'll miss this quirky, eclectic city, though.  The distinctive neighborhoods, the wicked thunderstorms, the rowhouses, the fireflies, the way everything is so crammed together out here.

Mostly the people, though.  I found me good people here.

So, it's good, but it's a little sad, too.

I guess moving is like that.