More Than Enough

September 16, 2020 Georgia Tanner

Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” Genesis 3:1NIV

Being two and a half is hard. There are just so many possibilities and so many limitations that surprise you with their suddenness. I recall a photograph of my angel-haired daughter, sunlight over her shoulder, surrounded by flowers, wearing a pale pink ballerina leotard with some sort of tutu netting, and my oversized tennis shoes, laces untied on her feet – her eyes closed tight as tears streamed down her little rosy cheeks. She was furious because I wanted to take her picture. She had been so darned cute just moments before. I framed that photograph and kept it on my vanity table for years. It completely captured her essence when she was two; from heavenly joy to earth-shattering sadness within one astonishing moment.

Her son just spent four days and four nights with us and I was reminded of this same thing; the terribleness of the twos. It is difficult for the parent of a two-year-old – but not nearly as terrible as it is for the two-year-old. Giggles can erupt into heartbreak in breathtaking time.

Yesterday, before the sun was up a good ways in the morning sky, the world had already crashed on his little head in multiple ways. "I want it!" and "I don't want to!" proceeded every outburst of tears rolling down his face with startling suddenness. He sat in his highchair surrounded by a feast he had helped me prepare including fresh blackberries, raspberries, and strawberries in yogurt. One little hand clutching a piece of cheese toast, his mouth still full with the bite he has just taken, his blue eyes spy my own last piece of toast. “I want that,” he points to my plate with his free hand. “This is mine. If you finish your fruit and your toast and are still hungry, I will fix you another piece…” was met with a heartbroken wail and closed eyes, tears dropping.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I was reminded of myself. Of us. Of us always-wanting-more humans. God knew about this little problem long before we were aware of it. He called it ‘coveting’. Wanting with all your little heart and soul what your neighbor has.

Our mouth still full from the last bite and another piece held tightly in our little fist – surrounded by additional options – we look over at what sits on our neighbor’s plate and by-golly, we want it! We never have enough, do we? We have a hard time being content with what is on our own plate.

Eventually, it would lead to time spent on the carpet. My two-year-old tantrums were met with a spanking, my daughter's tantrums were met with 'time out', my grandson's are met with time on the carpet to calm down. "Okay – you need to cry for a while? Go sit on the carpet and let me know when you are ready to talk." The anguish erupts in full force. Life is simply unbearable! The world is going to end as he lays face down on the shag rug in the living room and sobs while I load the dishwasher. He sucks air into his lungs with great gasps and slowly quietens, listening. "Are you ready to talk yet?" is met with renewed wails. I guess not.

That is me there on the carpet. I have everything. Everything. I have a wonderful life, full and overflowing, but discontent, like a crafty serpent, is waiting for the smallest opening to have a word with me. It is always the same old story. It has always been the same old story. This is exactly where the serpent got to Eve; “Yeah, you may have the whole garden of delights – but what about that tree over there? I wonder what that fruit tastes like?”

I know we can trace the heart of our problems back to that one ultimate sin of pride – but I think perhaps discontent runs a close second.

As I wait for the calm, I realize this is God’s kind reminder to me; “Look around. Look at the wonders I have given you. You have all you need. You have more than enough. You have gifts you haven’t even opened yet. Forget about that one tree over there; it is not for you.”

Discontent. It is waiting patiently to own you. Don’t let it. Don’t listen to its siren song. Take a good look at your plate; it is full, it is already more than enough.

Question: Do you get distracted by what is growing in your neighbor’s garden? Is it too easy to wish for more? How do you fight the demon of discontent?

Lauren Daigle - You Say

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sIaT8Jl2zpI