Winged Contentment

Yes, I am alone on Valentine's Night.

Literally, alone. I've got the place to myself. Just me, my laptop, and a steaming mug of chai spice tea.

February 14 is an excuse for a lot of things: giddy laughter, chocolate, hand-holding, candlelight, chocolate, self-pity, sad poetry, chocolate, and nasty little sugar hearts printed with trite phrases. I'd be prepared to see less of some things (except the chocolate), but one thing that I think we need to see more of (among singles and couples) is contentment.

This is something that I struggle with sometimes--who doesn't? Even the happily dating, betrothed, or wedded can have their share of pity parties.

What image does the word "contentment" bring up on the screen of your mind?

Maybe you see quiet diligence, working hard and successfully ignoring all the beautiful, but deceptive, luxuries of the world.

Maybe you see a spiritualist wacko doing a yoga pose and blissfully deluding himself into thinking the world is peachy keen.

Does that sound like a life with wings? 

Does that sound like the kind of life God means you to live?

What if "contentment" instead meant somebody who laughs into the face of loneliness, fear of rejection, unworthiness and grace-less-ness and sings boldly,

"God I trust you. I trust you with every ounce of blood and passion of my being that you will do abundantly more for me than I could ever imagine, and I seize with my hands and heart the magnificent blessings that you have prepared for me in this very second."

That's an attitude I could get behind. That's a brand of contentment that I could be a fan of.

Questions for comments: What is your idea of "contentment"? Is it positive or negative? Can you honestly say along with Paul, "I have learned the secret of being content"?