1950 house

The Gift of Contentment

Growing up, my family lived in a simple wood frame house in a working class neighborhood, nestled in the shadow of refineries and petrochemical plants. Thanks to the G.I. bill, my father bought it new in the early 1950s for less than 12,000 dollars.

Ours was a household shaped by thrift. My father, just 11 years old when the stock market crashed, was deeply marked by the Great Depression. He lived with utmost simplicity. Every part of life bore the stamp of frugality, but food reminded us of it every day.

Sandwiches were made with very thin slices of store brand white bread. The Oscar Mayer “luncheon loaf” looked like ham, but one bite convinced you otherwise. A slice of American cheese or some pickles made it tolerable if you were hungry enough.

Later, my parents upgraded to cooked ham from Buddig, sliced so thin you could almost see through it. We built those sandwiches on the same gummy bread with Miracle Whip and two tissue thin slices of ham. But it was real ham—a big upgrade over luncheon meat. With some chips and the store brand soda, it was a perfectly acceptable lunch.

My wife and I both grew up with this kind of economy, which prepared us to start our family young and face lean years with resilience. Even though money was always tight, those were days full of wonderful memories.

Today, retirement brings different blessings. We can afford regular quality foods and eat out at casual restaurants without having to worry about the bill. Life has improved in many ways, but honestly, the satisfaction isn’t so different from those days of Buddig sandwiches.

We still enjoy the nice things, like taking cruise vacations a few times a year, but we’re content with a basic cabin and whatever meals are included. Reading others’ cruise reviews always surprises me—they often let the smallest annoyances rob them of joy. It’s a sad way to live when an under toasted bagel can steal your joy for the day. Too often, perfectionism turns life into disappointments.

The Bible calls us to a deeper kind of contentment learned through both lean times and abundance. Solomon writes that when God gives someone wealth and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them, “this is a gift of God.” And Paul, writing to the Philippians, says, “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.”

Contentment isn’t generated by willpower. It comes as God teaches us, through both scarcity and abundance, to trust Christ, who gives strength in every circumstance.

Today, may we ask God for the grace to enjoy what we have—and to thank Him wholeheartedly, recognizing every good thing as a gift from our Creator.

. . . and that’s what I know today.

Similar Posts

  • A Bitter Brew

    There’s an old saying among teachers: “There’s no tired like first day tired.” After summer break, the start of a new year brings a mountain of prep, endless meetings, and barely any time for what matters most—getting ready for our students. By the first official day, most teachers are already running on empty. On the…

  • The Demand For a Designer

    Many people grow up with skewed notions of God. Perhaps the most common is the idea that He doesn’t exist. Imagine inviting the world’s best engineers and architects to stand with me before Hoover Dam on the Colorado River. There I announce—with conviction—that I built the whole thing—dam, turbines, generators—by myself. The reaction is instant—a…

  • Balancing the Books

    As a veteran economics teacher, my first days with a new class always felt awkward—students were cautious, not quite sure what to expect. To break the ice, I’d ask them to sum up economics in a single word. Almost everyone wrote: “money.” Then I’d reveal a hidden message I’d prepared behind the screen: “It’s not…

  • Fresh Grace Daily

    I am a child of God. He is the Lord, the maker of the heavens and the earth, and there is no other. The fact that I can call him my Father has nothing to do with my merit—it’s all about his grace. In this context, grace is unearned favor. I can’t claim I’ve done…

  • The Shadow of Grace

    For several years in my forties, I started my days before sunrise—out the door by 5 a.m., paper coffee cup in hand, before breakfast and ahead of the school-day rush. I’d walk a few blocks down cracked, uneven sidewalks to a small park by a wide concrete drainage culvert. On either side, a narrow, grassy…

  • The Important Speaks Softly

    The world is crowded with voices, all talking at once—some whispering in my head, others shouting from the TV and from feeds engineered to keep me staring, stewing, and scrolling. If Christians have an enemy—and we do—this noise is not incidental; it’s strategy, because distraction is a remarkably efficient thief. Awake, and my mind is…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *