Living Thanksgiving

By Taisa Efseaff Maffey


I never thought I would already be doing a themed post, but with Thanksgiving coming up, I could hardly resist.  For me, Thanksgiving is a holiday that inspires reflection, and if there’s anything that writers feed off of, it’s reflection.  But even reflection can become routine.  I regularly reflect on my life and thank God for my blessings: eternal salvation, good health and physical mobility, marriage to my soulmate, wonderful family and friends, a nice home, a reliable vehicle to drive, good food to eat, etc.  It may seem silly, but I also make it a point to thank God for relatively less significant blessings as He gives them: finding a lost item, getting a parking space in front that seemed impossible to get, a close call with dropping or breaking something (this happens much more often than I'd like to admit).  But even though I'd like to think I have a thankful heart, I have to acknowledge another attitude that all too often creeps in and contradicts my professions of gratitude: Discontentment.

I’m convinced that discontentment must be a built-in aspect of human nature.  I distinctly remember going to my nephew’s birthday party a few years ago, watching him tear away wrapping paper to expose a new action figure he wanted, and then hearing him exclaim, “Cool!  Now all I need is the yellow one!”  If you ever want to see human nature in its most transparent form, all you have to do is spend some time with kids.  Adults can become pretty good at hiding our flaws from each other – our pride, greed, vanity, selfish ambitions, ill intentions – but young children haven’t learned to do that yet.  My nephew unknowingly revealed a universal truth to me that day.  The more we get, the less we appreciate what we have and the more we want what we don’t have.

Hopefully this makes my point: Go look into your closet right now and count how many pairs of shoes you have, then ask yourself if there are still others you’re interested in getting.  I can tell you that I have three pairs of flip flops – flat, medium wedge, and high wedge.  I have three pairs of athletic shoes – one for working out inside, one for running outside, and one pair of fashion sneakers that I’m getting antsy to change up.  I have multiple pairs of heels and flats of varying styles and colors.  I currently have a pair of rain boots, a pair of snow boots, and a nice pair of mid-calf leather boots, but I’ve been “needing” to get a nice pair of TALL leather boots to wear with dresses and skirts in the winter and a pair of regular ankle boots for wearing with jeans.  You get the idea.

Living in a country and culture with such abundance, it’s easy to get carried away with what we think we need and what we want.  For Ethan and me, going to places like Costco and IKEA are danger zones.  All of a sudden, we start seeing things that we never knew we needed, things that would make our lives so much better.  The latest high-powered blender, a bigger TV, his and hers electronic toothbrushes, a new duvet cover to “freshen up” the bedroom, a KitchenAid stand mixer in candy apple red, all six Star Trek original series movies on Blu-ray.  (Can you tell which are his and which are mine?  Spoiler: Ethan was the one who wanted the new duvet cover.)

In 1 Timothy 6:6-9, Apostle Paul writes, “Now godliness with contentment is great gain.  For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.  And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.  But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition.”  The masses of people with credit card debt in this country is enough proof that discontentment is a snare.  Practically speaking, when we desire to have things we don’t need and spend money we don’t have or shouldn’t be spending, we can end up drowning – in financial problems, in too much stuff, in further discontentment.  Most importantly, these “foolish and harmful lusts” lead us away from remembering how blessed we already are.

Apostle Paul experienced more affliction in his life than any of us will ever even think about.  And yet, after all of it, he could say, “Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.  Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11-13).  The bit I always go back to is, “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.”  I’m encouraged that contentment is something we can learn.  And like many things, the first step is acknowledging that we have a problem.  Once I recognize the propensity I have towards discontentment, I can purpose in my heart to choose contentment when temptations for riding boots and KitchenAid mixers arise.

Personally, I don’t think it’s enough to say that we’re thankful for what we have.  As Christmas approaches and we find ourselves and our children making lists of what we want, we need to take care that we are not giving more significance to what we don’t have instead of focusing on what we do have.  Philippians 4:8 is a great reminder: “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.”  What is true?  We are extraordinarily blessed and have so much more than most of the people in this world.  What is noble?  Thinking more about how we can bless or help others, rather than what we expect or want to receive from them.  Who is praiseworthy?  Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord who provides.