"Mi casa"

For those of you hoping for a Valentine's Day post about love and mushy squishiness, I will apologize upfront. We've had a bit of a rough spot the past few weeks. Actually months. So we'll be putting off cupid and red and pink and love for just a bit. Not that our house isn't full of love; it is. It's just not so full of spare time or energy.

Our house is what I wanted to write about today. We sponsor a little boy in Guatemala through Compassion International. (Insert plug for a fantastic organization here!) I have been woefully negligent about writing to him the way I should and the way I want to since the kiddos arrived on the scene here stateside, but I'm resolving to change that soon.

He continues to write us letters periodically and last week we got one that just stopped me in my tracks. I can't stop thinking about it. The letter was entitled "Mi Casa" and he described the place he calls home. The first thing he tells us is that they have a bathroom. They have one bedroom where they sleep and eat. They have a patio for hanging clothes to dry. He helps wash dishes and clothes in the sink (It was unclear whether or not that sink was in the bathroom.) So there you go - a bedroom, a bathroom, a patio, and I'll assume a small kitchen or kitchen area. His family rents their home.

And then he asks, "Como es su casa?" Um. Here, I mentally shift my weight uncomfortably. Each of my daughters has her own room. I have a laundry room with a washer and dryer. I have a dishwasher. Our living room is separate from the kitchen and from the bedrooms. We have two and a half bathrooms. We even have a bedroom for guests when they come to visit. And then I think . . . and we would like to move at some point. A bigger backyard, more space, a playroom area, updated fixtures, an eat-in kitchen. For real? An eat-in kitchen?

We have so much, but I don't stop to realize it much. I'm not sure even how to answer his question in a way that he will understand. Except that I can tell him that the best thing about our house is that the people in it are loved by God and love God in return. And we love each other. And then in my mind, I will thank this dear sweet boy for reminding us to be grateful for how God has provided for us and for the vast majority of Americans, who have never experienced anything like what he described. It kinda makes you think about needs, wants, and just what is enough.

Contentment. Elusive as it is, we are told to pursue it. I often think about the words I have seen often, but whose origin I don't know. Someone out there is content with less than what you have. Thanks for the perspective check.