“Godliness with contentment is great gain.”
In a world where hardly anyone seems to be content, what must one do to find both a comfortable and comforting place of contentment? What comes to mind when you think of contentment?
1- A small infant with not a worry in the world. No concern of where food is coming from… never a question of shelter or love.
*The world teaches us discontentment. The world teaches us to fear. The world teaches us to be suspicious of our neighbors.
2-Contentment is also personified in the little home of the elderly woman who graced my life from Gilbertown, AL. Her name was Ollie Lee Long. Sister Ollie as many would call her… but Mawmaw as most would call her. She had a humble little house. Nothing new or glamorous was positioned throughout the decor. In fact, the only thing new in the house was the last few bags of groceries that she had recently purchased, a drawer full of night gowns (with the tags still on) that she had received for the last several Christmases (she refused to wear them because they were “new”… and what she had was working just fine), also in the collection of new things was a stack of dish towels that she was modifying with her ball of yarn and a button to send home with every child and grandchild to hang on their refrigerator or stove door… Oh and there was one more new thing in her house… ME, the little “preacher boy” who married her great-granddaughter.
We always looked forward to going to Mawmaw’s house for Christmas. Not because of the big screen TV that would play our favorite football team’s game… Not because of the comfy, expensive furniture that we would fall into and relax… Not because of anything of the sort, because there simply was none of that in the house. We looked forward to going to Mawmaw’s house because there was a sweet sense of simplicity and contentment that embraced us from the moment we walked through the door until we left. Christmas at Mawmaw’s was about Family, Food, Fun, Friendliness… many of the things that provide contentment.
Babies and Sr. Adults… are they the only ones who can be content? It sure seems that way. We middle-aged people in the rat race find little or no contentment. We try to keep up with the Joneses (whoever they are). We try to outdo the Smiths (I know several of them). We try to get everything on our child’s Christmas list… no matter how much it costs, nor how long we will be paying for it, only to watch them tear open this package, lay it to the side, and move on to the next paper to tear. The constant tearing of paper leaves us no time or energy to be content. Contentment is not always conquering the next mountain, getting the next promotion, being invited to the party down the street… tearing paper… contentment is finding our place in Jesus and knowing that no matter what comes our way, Jesus Christ is our only place of solace and contentment.
Mawmaw was satisfied with Jesus, therefore other material things just didn’t matter.
Philippians 4:10-13 I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.


Wow! It has been a long time since I stepped up to the mic. For those who have been kind enough to keep checking back for a new post, let me first apologize for keeping you waiting. There are times when I feel inspired to write and other times that I feel wordless (if that is even a word). As I awoke this morning, I was thinking on a passage of scripture that will eventually become a sermon that I will preach. I have, for some time now, tried to preach out of my personal Bible study, rather than just looking for sermons from various locations. I must admit that as a preacher, the radar is always on and searching for some good material. My thoughts were focused early this morning on Elisha’s question in the early verses of 2 Kings… “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” This is coming from the lips of a young preacher who has faithfully served the man of God, who has been there to pour water on Elijah’s hands to refresh him, he has been there until the moment that a chariot of fire parted the two of them and took the Prophet into the heavens. Now he stands on the banks of the waters, with a mantle in his hand, on-lookers staring him down, needing a miracle to endorse his new found ministry. Those were the words from his mouth, “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?”
Thanks Volunteers!
The average church-goer will paint you a gloomy picture that dipicts ALL of the middle-aged people as being flaky and absent from today’s churches. Statistically, there is reason to believe those accusations… but this past weekend, a greoup of 18 to 30-something year olds gathered for a ground-breaking retreat called Return 09: A Weekend to Encounter God. This is the 2nd year that the Churches of God in Oklahoma put an emphasis on what has been called the “Good-bye Generation”. The entire weekend drove home the message that this generation is vital as it relates to the present and the future of the Lord Jesus Christ’s Church. The power and presence of God was certainly present with conviction and with rejoicing. One of the highlights of the weekend was when we all took the opportunity to travel to the Johnson Church of God and spend time together connecting on a personal level. Sharing together in a time of fun and games. In all of the sessions there was a tangible presence of the Lord, causing deep commitment to take place. I personally want to thank the Return Committee for putting together this awesome time of inspiration… I can’t wait until next year!
along a long dirt road. The dirt road was identified by the two ruts made by a vehicle… a row of grass was growing in the middle of the tire tracks… but we had parked by the fence back at the farmhouse and were walking the nearly ¼ mile to an old forgotten family cemetery. The mood was quiet with very little talking. Even though there were several family members, it was still a limited crowd of only about 20 people. My dad had in his hand a little gray box. As we walked, I could smell the fresh cut grass… I could smell the soil that had been interrupted by the tractor that had removed the brush and the fallen trees from the area where those little stained markers were that bore my family history. My grandmother had a fear of being buried. As a child, her family had gone to the beach, and there her brothers and sisters buried her in the sand with her head only sticking out of the sand… it was all fun and games, until they ran off and left her as a prank. Because of that she was terrified of being buried. Three months before this walk to the cemetery, she learned that she had cancer… aggressive colon cancer… and it didn’t take long. Her requests were… No flowers, only one long-stem rose will accompany her into the crematory… and now we were doing our best to carry out the rest of her requests. You see, she only had one living child, my daddy… but she had another child that lived to be about 6 hours old… and he was there. Her parents were there and other family members too. Three graves together… my great-grandparents and my uncle Johnny. Her request was, to have her ashes poured out on her baby’s grave and on her parents graves… So my dad, the only logical one to carry out the request, pried the top of the gray box off, opened the plastic bag that held my grandmother, and began to scatter her ashes onto the ground. As we stood there in unblinking silence, the next thing that my dad did will forever be engraved upon my mind and heart… He took the last few ashes, poured them into his hand, pressed his lips to those bitter ashes… and with a clear and unbroken tone he said, “I love you, Mama”… and gently cast them onto the ground.