Contentment or chaos: A resolution

Contentment.

Chaos.

Choices as plain as the fare offered on the menu. Choices we make each day.

Some people, I'll admit, thrive on chaos. When everything is up in the air, people running hither, thither and yon, crying with Chicken Little that the sky is falling, these folks are in their element. They may not have the right solution, but they certainly have a solution. They live by the adage, "We have to do something! Now!" (I think a lot of these folks may be driving the healthcare reform bus. Certainly, something must be done, but woe to us if what we choose to do is the wrong thing.)

Others simply cannot accomplish anything until everything is falling apart. Regularly scheduled maintenance is as foreign to them as soap is to a sow. And even though the car only starts one out of three times without a jump, a new battery will have to wait until after the haircut, the new jeans and a night out on the town. Batteries are so boring. Nothing like a good emergency to get these guys going. No really. It takes an emergency to get these guys moving.

Then there are the hoarders. These are the folks who keep everything and happily accept anything anyone else is discarding "just in case." The chaos comes when the very item they have saved and stored for 15 years is finally needed, but they have moved it from place to place so many times they haven't a hope of ever finding it. Chaos.

Contentment or chaos also is a choice in relationships, especially the marriage relationship. Common fare on nightly sitcoms is "making up" after a big fight. Apparently for these TV folk, the only time they can enjoy any measure of intimacy is after a good old-fashioned knockdown drag-out. If it's true that life imitates art (if sitcoms can be called art) there may be some truth there.

And, it has long been known that children, if ignored long enough, will go to drastic measures to capture their parents' attention, even if that means a phone call from the police after they've been arrested for shoplifting, or, for the younger ones, coloring freshly painted walls with wax crayons.

Chaos or contentment.

It affects our home life more than we realize. I especially remember the infrequent phone calls from my paternal grandparents, calling before "dropping by."

Whoever answered the phone would hang up and holler "White tornado! Grandma and Grandpa are on their way." And we would scatter to our assigned storm duties, shoving dirty dishes into the oven, emptying the often overflowing trash can and running -- literally running -- with the vacuum, hoping to get the worst of it sucked out of sight before they arrived. I also remember the mad dash on Monday mornings between the five of us kids, pawing through piles of clothing trying to find something clean enough to go through one more day of school, another not so fond memory of chaos.

Is it any wonder that I abhor chaos, in all of its various mutations?

Experience is a good teacher, perhaps the best teacher, after all, as each of these situations reek of personal experience. Admittedly, it has taken nearly all of my half-century plus time on this planet to learn that, for the most part, chaos is a choice that can be exchanged for a much more pleasurable reality, contentment.

It comes when you recognize the elemental things of life. Food. Clothing. Safe shelter when you sleep. And companionship. All God-given needs, common to every man, all needs God has promised to meet, if we but seek him first in all things.

These are, or can be, simple needs.

My home decorating skills are nil. I don't even bother to attend home decor parties because I have never been able to duplicate the "Martha Stewart" look. But I do have one simple arrangement on one wall, consisting of two pictures and a hand-embroidered sampler of sorts, that remind me to keep it simple. The pictures have been around for years and are easily recognizable. One is of an elderly woman seated at her table, bent over her Bible, with a crust of bread at her side. The other, its counterpart, is of an old man, hands clasped in prayer over a bowl of soup. The sampler simply reads, "All this... and Jesus, too."

For me, this is the picture of contentment.

Maintaining contentment is as simple as the arrangement on my wall. Because once the basic needs are met, only one more component is necessary to appreciate life, to hold on to contentment. Purpose.

And each day brings some measure of purpose; whether automobile maintenance, clean dishes or neatly folded laundry, purpose staves off chaos.

"So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." Matthew 6:31-33 (NIV)