When my husband first proposed, we weren’t in bad shape financially. We were both blessed to still live with our parents while working full time, so we’d managed to sock away a decent savings. Still, being barely in our 20’s and facing the prospect of living on our own for the first time, being solely responsible for bills and rent, was intimidating! We had to have an honest conversation about where to live, what kind of home to rent, etc.
After some heavy dialogue about what life would look like if one day we suddenly couldn’t make rent for one reason or another, I teased the love of my life with, “I don’t care if we live in a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere, as long as I’m with you.”
We’ve repeated that saying back and forth a lot during our six years of marriage since. It’s a promise, a gentle joke, and a reassurance that we’re in it for the best and the worst—and it’s not an exaggeration for either of us. Of course, living in a cardboard box under a bridge isn’t what either of us would call ideal, but it’s what we’re willing to endure if it means sticking together.
There’s no doubt I feel that way about my husband. But it occurred to me to ask myself one day: “Do I feel the same way about God?”
I know I’m supposed to. A “God and me at the end of the day” attitude is something I’ve always wanted to have. But am I there yet? Could I be content in a cardboard box under a bridge as long as I had Him?
It’s an interesting notion, isn’t it? History is full of people God called into uncomfortable conditions to serve Him and His purposes. It’s easy to say we’d do whatever it took, that we’d take up our cross and go—while we’re sitting in our comfortable east-facing armchair watching the sunrise, hot coffee in one hand, Bible in lap, snuggled under a blanket.
But if God called us into a situation as uncomfortable as laying our heads on the hard ground every night to serve Him, could we really do it—and without grumbling, discontentment, or even some resentment toward Him?
This is by no means a call for us to sell our things and move under the nearest overpass. But I hope some of you will join me in the journey of finding complete contentment in the presence of God. It may be a lifelong effort, but I know I’m going to do my best to make it a priority. If I can’t give up everything and go where He leads me, even if that’s into discomfort, then I’m not following Him with my whole heart. I’m not a disciple who could leave the nets and go down the shore in the footsteps of Jesus.
But that’s who I want to be. I want to be sincere when I say, “Not my will, but Yours be done. I’m right here, send me.” And if He calls me to a place outside my comfort zone, I want my heart to be willing and ready to follow—to the nearest bridge and beyond.