The desire for more and more, the greener grass, the next chance, the next great thing – without regard for what one already has, has been the bane of many. The unhappiness it carries in its wake, and the bitterness and resentment it sometimes engenders is unfortunately the story of many. It is the expression of a lack of contentment. Its root is an unthankful heart, its road is dotted with pessimism and distrust, and its end is guaranteed grief.
Every time I read the Book of Esther, I come away with two different sentiments, one is the response to a story of triumph and blessing; the other is the lesson of the story of wasted significance and ultimate ignominy.
The second is what I am concerned with today: the story of Haman the Agagite. This story which echoes through millennia, is the story of a man of great power and eminence who, in an empire of one hundred and twenty-seven provinces spanning Asia to Africa – attained the stature of having the ear of the king. The exceptional favour Haman enjoyed led to such eminence that he could walk into the presence of the king without invitation. The king singled him out for honour, commanding that people should bow to him as he passed by. He had become great, and he knew it. He reveled in it and boasted about it to his family and friends.
This should have been the story of a man who walked in joy and contentment. Sadly, it is not, for all the honour that had been accorded Haman, and all the people who bowed before his presence did not satisfy his desire for honour, as long as one person held out: Mordecai.
Mordecai’s reason for refusing to obey the king’s edict is not specifically stated although the mention of his Jewish ethnicity may provide some explanation for it.
Was Haman right to be displeased by Mordecai’s attitude? Perhaps. After all, it may have seemed that Mordecai intended to disrespect him or to treat him with disdain. But his reaction, which was unreasoning and unreasonable vengeance, could not be excused or even understood. Not only was he consumed with such hatred of Mordecai, that he sought his death on gallows built high enough for everyone to see his sad end, but he also sought the annihilation of an entire ethnic group, simply because he was a member of it. As the story goes, his vengeful plot became his undoing – the end of his own eminence, and even his life – for he touched the untouchable: the Jewish nation of which the Queen was a part.
It seems to me that what drove him to this ignominious end was his ruling passion of never having enough, which is really, a lack of contentment.
Does this sound familiar?
I have no doubt that if you did honest introspection, you would find a lack of contentment to be at the root of your constant desire to have the next thing, despite all that you do have. It comes from restlessness which is grounded in fear. The fear that something that should make life complete for you is being denied, or may not be attained, leading to a never-ending quest for that holy grail.
May I encourage you to read Genesis 3 once again, to acquaint yourself with the story of how the first parents of humanity – Adam and Eve – lost their heavenly glory. For them, everything that was created by God was made subject to them, and God Himself made a garden for them, only to drive them out of it.
Will you make the same mistake Eve (with Adam) made in the beginning, when she put out her hand to pluck and eat the forbidden fruit in the belief that God was holding out on them, keeping from them something that would make them complete (becoming like God, knowing good from evil)?
May I clarify, that ambition, healthy ambition is a good thing, for it is good for a person to stretch themselves, to be all they can be, to contribute to life, and to achieve what is achievable. But beware, lest it become your ruling passion; lest nothing satisfies your desire for significance, so that you fail to celebrate what you have already received by God’s mercies.
It is said that the grass appears to be greener at the other side of the fence. Do not be caught up in this constant striving for what appears to be a denied entitlement, for there is blessing in contentment, and it includes peace, and the confidence that what you need will come in time.
Your times are in the hands of God. Do not let your fear of missing out on the next thing (FOMO) sour you and render you unable to celebrate what you do have. Stop and smell the roses. You already have a lot for which you must be thankful if you stop to count your blessings.
Discontentment has but one destination: grief; for there will always be things that are not within your reach, people who excel in things you can barely comprehend, places on the map you will never set your foot on, alluring attainments that are not for you.
It is only in this one thing that you can afford, indeed need, to be restless: that you seek to know more of God, and to deepen your walk with Him.
In Matthew 11:29, Jesus offers rest for your soul. That is all you need, really. Everything else, all the significance you seek, and all the attainments you think you must have in order to be happy are: “… vanity, a chasing after the wind”. So said King Solomon a man who had more of everything you think you need (Ecclesiastes 1:14).
In this new year, do some introspection. See whether you have allowed your heart to lack contentment. Resolve to count your blessings. You will find that there are many.
Really.
