When You Don't Know
You're Poor
Let your conversation
be without covetousness;
and be content with
such things as ye have:
for He hath said, I
will never leave thee,
nor forsake thee.
— Hebrews 13:5
We hung out last Saturday night in
that glamorous vacation paradise, Crofton, Neb. OK, it ain't Monte Carlo, but
it's a cute town, population about 750, up in northeast Nebraska.
It had been a scorcher. We had stayed
cool on a nearby lake, and ate a nice dinner at the 1912 Argo Hotel. That's
where we were going to stay, in a $55 room complete with window air
conditioner, ceiling fan, and a key to the tiny restroom across the hall. Local
color! We decided to take a stroll around town before bedtime. Wow! Wouldn't it
be great to live in a small town like this? But something was missing: people.
As we walked, we could see the
flicker of TV screens in every living room. The hum of the air conditioning
units nearly drowned out the summer bug symphony.
Oddly, there was nobody outside but
us. Imagine: a gorgeous August evening, with the stars coming out, and nearly every
house had a porch. But we were alone as the cool darkness fell.
And then we looked up, and saw a
meteor! A flash of blue, like a solo shot from a Roman candle. Ohhhh! A little
burst of God's glory! The annual Perseids meteor shower had come around again.
And we saw one. What a thrill!
We gasped, and marveled . . . and
felt sad that we were apparently the only ones who'd seen it. I mean, what were
their eyes glued to, inside on those boob tubes? Sponge Bob? Some old movie? An
ad for some dumb thing?
Humbug. The older I get, the more I
don't like TV. It makes you want what you don't have, whether you need it or
not. Worse, it makes you ignore what you DO have. I think we're in danger of
letting TV over-sophisticate us right out of the precious, simple joys God most
wants us to cherish.
A friend of mine gets that more than
most people. When she was a little girl, her family was poor. But they didn't
even know it.
She was one of 11 children. She can
remember everybody packing into the old station wagon to go somewhere, and the
kids would have to stagger-sit - one out front on the edge of the seat, the
next one pressed 'way back against the back of the seat, and the next one up
front on the edge of the seat again. Sardines! It was the only way for them all
to go anywhere at the same time.
I think today of all the families with
one or two kids riding around in those mega-SUV's with a movie theatre in back,
air-conditioned seats, and all the bells and whistles. And yet the kids are
STILL bored, and STILL whine.
Not my friend's family. She doesn't
remember anybody ever complaining, even though their summer vacations consisted
of day trips to a state park, a picnic while there, and maybe ice cream cones
on the way back.
Compared to today's time-shares and
vacations abroad, their modest outings packed into that old station wagon were
nothing. But she didn't know that. She loved growing up. She had fun.
Hot summer nights sounded best of
all. They didn't have TV and they didn't have air conditioning. But they were
far from deprived. She and her brothers and sisters would play kick the can and
other games 'til the streetlights came on. Then they'd come in and spread out
sheets and pillows on the living room floor. Their mom would spritz them with a
spray bottle of cold water, and train two big fans on them. Ahhhhhhhh!
Heavenly!
They thought they lived like kings
and queens.
You know what?
They did.
When you make the most of what you
have, wherever you find yourself to be, you're rich beyond your wildest dreams.
We had to leave home to find that out, but we're glad we did.
That's
because there's Someone Who'll meet your every need, especially ones that don't
cost a dime . . . whether it's for love or joy, peace or contentment . . . a
glimpse of a meteor in the night sky . . . or the sweet kiss of cool air as you
drift off to sleep. †
