If Only

If Only

I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. (Phil. 4:11-13)

The widest river in the world is not the Mississippi, the Amazon, or even the Nile. The widest river on earth is a body of water called If Only. Throngs of people stand on its banks and cast longing eyes over its waters. They want to cross, but can't seem to find the ferry. They’re convinced that the If Only river separates them from the good life. If only I were thinner, I'd have the good life. If only I were richer, I'd have the good life. If only the kids would come. If only the kids were gone. If only I could leave home, move home, get married, get divorced. If only my skin were clear of pimples, my calendar free of people, my profession free from layoffs, then I would have the good life. The If Only cry me a river.

Does it seem like the good life is always one if only away? One purchase away? One promotion away? One election or one romance away? If so, then you’ve traced your anxiety to one of its sources. You're in a hurry to cross the river, but worried that you never will. As a result, you work long hours, borrow more money, take on new projects, and pile on more responsibilities. Stress. Debt. Short nights. Long days. All part of the cost of the ticket to the land of the good life, right? Not exactly, opined the apostle Paul. The good life begins, not when circumstances change, but when our attitude toward them does. Look again at his antidote for anxiety: "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6-7)

Paul embedded in these two verses two essential words that deserve special attention: with thanksgiving. Sprinkled among your phrases of "Help me . . . ," or "Please give me . . . ," or maybe "Won't you show me . . .," should be two wonderful words: Thank you. Gratitude is a mindful awareness of the benefits of life. It is the greatest of virtues. Studies have linked the emotion with a variety of positive effects. Grateful people tend to be more empathetic and forgiving of others. People who keep a gratitude journal are more likely to have a positive outlook on life. Grateful individuals demonstrate less envy, materialism and self-centeredness. Gratitude improves self-esteem, and enhances relationships, quality of sleep and longevity. If it came in a pill form, gratitude would be deemed the miracle cure. It's no wonder, then, that God's anxiety therapy includes a large, delightful dollop of gratitude.

Gratitude leads us off the riverbank of If Only, and escorts us to the fertile delta of Already. The anxious heart says, “Lord, if only I had this, that or the other thing, I’d be okay.” The grateful heart says, “Oh, look! You’ve already given me this, that or the other thing. Thank you, God.” My friend, John, has taught me the value of gratitude. He’s eighty-three years old and regularly shoots his age on the golf course. I’d have to live to a hundred to do as well. His dear wife, Marilyn, battles a number of diseases. What should have been a wonderful season of retirement has been marred by hospital stays, medication and struggles. Many days Marilyn can’t keep her balance. John has to be at her side. Yet he never complains. He always has a smile and a joke. And he relentlessly beats me at golf.

I asked John his secret. He said, “Every morning Marilyn and I sit together and sing a hymn. I ask her what she wants to sing. She always says, ‘Count Your Blessings.’ So we sing it. And we count our blessings.” Take a moment and follow John’s example. Look at your blessings. Do you see any friends? Family? Do you see any grace from God? The love of God? Do you see any gifts? Abilities? Talents? Skills? And as you look at your blessings, take note of what happens. Anxiety grabs its bags and slips out the back door. Worry refuses to share a heart filled with gratitude. One heartfelt thank-you will suck the oxygen out of worry’s world. So say it often. Focus more on what you have, and less on what you don’t.

The apostle Paul modeled this outlook. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” (Phil 4:11-13) The circumstances of Paul’s life in jail were miserable. Under constant surveillance. No reason to hope for release. Yet with shackles dangling from his wrists, the apostle announced, “I have learned the secret to being content.”

Paul’s use of the term secret is curious. He doesn’t say, “I have learned the principle.” Or, “I have learned the concept.” Instead, “I have learned the secret of being content.” A secret, by definition, is a bit of knowledge not commonly known. It’s as if the apostle beckons us to lean forward to hear him whisper, “Can I share a secret with you about happiness?” “I have learned the secret of being content – whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need.” (v. 12)

Does happiness depend on what you drive? Wear? Deposit? Even spray on? If so, you’ve entered the rat race called materialism. You can’t win that race. There will always be a newer car to buy, or a nicer dress to purchase. And since the rat race is unwinnable, you’re setting yourself up for certain failure which then leads to more anxiety. Define yourself by your stuff, and you’ll feel good when you have a lot, and you’ll feel bad when you don’t. If I get the new job . . . If I can retire . . . . In each case joy comes, then fades. By the time you reach old age, you’ve ridden a thousand roller coasters of hope and disappointment, hope and disappointment. Life has repeatedly lifted you up, and then let you down, and you’re suspicious that, given your past experiences, it’s likely to let you down again.

Contingent contentment turns us into wounded, worried people. Paul advances a healthier strategy. He learned to be content with what he had, which is pretty remarkable since he had so little. He had a jail cell instead of a house. He had four walls instead of a mission field. He had chains instead of jewelry, a guard instead of a wife. How could he be content? Simple. He focused on a different list. He had eternal life. He had the love of God. He had forgiveness of sins. He had the surety of salvation. He had Christ, and, for Paul, Christ was enough. What he had in Christ was significantly greater than what he didn't have in life.

Here’s a little detail about Paul’s letter to the Philippians that actually says quite a lot about the author. Within its 104 verses Paul mentions Jesus forty times. In other words, Paul talked about Christ, on average, every 2½ verses. "To me the only important thing about living is Christ, and dying would be profit for me." (Phil. 1:21) His only aim was to know Jesus. Riches didn’t attract him. Applause didn’t matter to him. The grave didn’t intimidate him. All he wanted was more Jesus. As a result, he was content. In Jesus, Paul found all the satisfaction his heart desired, and you and I can learn the same.

Christ-based contentment turns us into strong people. Since no one can take our Jesus, no one can take our joy. Can death take our joy? No, Jesus is greater than death. Can failure take our joy? No, Jesus is greater than our sin. Can betrayal take our joy? No, Jesus will never leave us. Can sickness take our joy? No, God has promised, whether on this side of the grave or the other, to heal us. Can disappointment take our joy? No, because even though our plans may not work out, we know God's plan will. Death, failure, betrayal, sickness, disappointment – they cannot take our joy, because they can’t take our Jesus.

What you have in Christ is greater than anything you don't have in life. You have God, who is crazy about you, and the forces of heaven to monitor and protect you. You have the living presence of Jesus within you. In Christ you have everything. He can give you a happiness that can never be taken, a grace that will never expire, and a wisdom that will ever increase. He’s a fountain of living hope that will never be exhausted. I have a friend who lives next to a river, into which his boat dock extends from the edge of his property. The level of the river may rise and fall with the seasons or circumstances. His boat may even rock back and forth with the river traffic. But though the level may change and his boat may rock, it’s never drifted away. Why? Because his boat is securely anchored to the dock. What about you?

Anchor your heart to the character of God. Your boat will rock. Moods will come and go. Situations will fluctuate. But you won’t be left adrift on the river of despair because you’ve found a contentment that endures the circumstances. So, no more "if only" – it’s the Petri dish for anxiety. Focus on a different list – not a list of things to do, or a list of things you want, but a list of the things you already have. Replace your "if only" with "already." Exchange each anxious thought with a grateful one, and then the peace of God will replace your anxiety with contentment. That’s the secret to a thankful life.

Grace,

Randy

If Only - Audio/Visual