Last week I posted about being disobedient. You can read about it here. I also said that I would share the reason for my disobedience.
Here it is: Discontentment. It’s really that simple. Sadly, it manifested itself in many ugly ways, but the cause of my disobedience was discontentment. (The root of my discontentment was pride but that’s another post.)
Discontentment comes when I focus on what I don’t have and what I wish I had rather than on what I do have. I have a very, very blessed life and I am re-learning the habit of counting my blessings and being thankful for and content with what I have.
Recently, one of my children told me about a friend who has a newly remodeled kitchen. I heard all the details about new cabinetry, tile, hardwood floors, and counter tops. This child of mine was genuinely thrilled for this person and lovingly admired the beauty of the space. There was not a trace of jealousy or envy.
I was convicted by my discontentment (once again) and vowed to begin (again) counting my blessings—beginning with my kitchen.
We live in a 1970’s ranch. When we bought this house it had wall to wall brown carpet, cheap linoleum, popcorn ceilings, and flocked (shiny) wall paper on Every. Single. Wall. The downstairs mother-in-law suite had orange shag carpet and brown paneling. But I loved this house the minute I walked in. I could see a home.
Today, we still have the
same dirty brown carpet, cheap linoleum, popcorn ceilings and orange shag carpet on the stairs. We’ve painted almost every wall, replaced a couple of toilets, hung some new light fixtures, and made this shell of a house a home.
Back to the kitchen.
I spend A LOT of time in the kitchen. This kitchen:
Since we bought this house 10 years ago we’ve replaced the refrigerator, the cook top, the oven, and the dishwasher(twice). I still have the harvest gold sink and vent hood. As you can see I have very little counter space. Preparing a large meal for a large family can be challenging. You know how people tend to gather in the kitchen? Well, they do here,too.
Then we gather here to eat:
But that’s the blessing of it. I have some very special people to cook for and I love it. They love to eat and I love to cook. Can it get any better than that?
Would a new kitchen make it easier? Maybe. (Oh how I would love a double oven!)
Would a new kitchen make it sweeter? No way.
Sometimes I need to be reminded.