I know the secret to happiness. Do you?

If you don’t, just ask my daughters. I’m forever telling them. Which is super-annoying, I’m sure.

“Want what you have.” Isn’t that easy? Four words that lay out the path to happiness. Embrace what you have.  Don’t want what you don’t have.  Find the gift in this circumstance.  This relationship.  This job.  This season of life, whatever it is.  Want it, and dig into it.

“Want what you have.” Four words that are easy to say, but difficult to live.

For the past three weeks or so I’ve really been struggling. I haven’t wanted what I have, I’ve wanted something different. It’s pretty non-creative actually. I want to have more money. I want my book to be a bestseller. I want to have a flat stomach. I want to be the minister of a congregation again, but not a real congregation, a dream one that doesn’t make any demands on me.

The truth is that I’ve made some difficult choices in the past few years, by leaving ministry to write. To earn some money I do administrative work on a part-time basis. I answer the phone and take care of correspondence. I’ve learned Excel and Quickbooks. The work is for a worthy organization. But sometimes it’s hard to work for an hourly wage after I’ve had the status of being “the minister” for so long. I’ve been the one giving the administrative person directions, not receiving them.

But I want/need to contribute to the family income. I have been going halve-sies on income with my husband for almost 30 years now. We have an egalitarian marriage and that has always included finances.

“Want what you have.” But the truth is that I want things I don’t have. Money. A bestseller. Professional status. A flat stomach.

But there is a deeper truth. What I have is enough. We have enough money for our modest life. My book is not a bestseller, but the writing between the pages doesn’t embarrass me. And while I’m grateful for my decades of ministry experience, I was also ready to move on. The reason I moved from parish ministry into writing was because I felt called to it by God.

And do I really want to fall into the female pit of thinking that how I look — a pound or two around my middle — is the difference between happiness and unhappiness? Would I want my daughters to think such a thing?

I’ll tell you what clarified this muddle for me. I noticed a posting for a ministry job and immediately had a surge of powerful feelings. I thought: I could do that, I need to do that, I would be somebody if I did that.

Then my Sub-conscious spoke up. She said: Don’t you have a book to write? Don’t you want to love what you already have?

It was an epiphany, like popping a bubble.

So I’ve decided to love what I have: the work.

And I will exercise my faith, and trust that God will lead me to the next place. Seems like the thing to do during this season of Advent.

Share This: