Grey skies leak and soak into the thirsty, red soil of the desert mesa. My thoughts circulate and spin. On this drizzly Sunday afternoon in the high deserts of Arizona, I ponder what He’s been whispering to me these recent weeks and months. I’ve been traveling this winding path called life. It’s taken me through the merciless ocean tide, through the stormy winds, and most recently, through the parched desert plains where joy seems hard to find. I’ve wondered how I ended up here in the desert, the red dirt leaving no trail of glorious miracles—only stains of more hard days. And I find myself wishing, waiting, for moments of perfection, moments when finally, life is all I’ve wanted it to be. Yet I’m crudely reminded that in every place my feet have trod, I’ve wished the same, awaited the same—for life to finally reach ‘perfection’. My thoughts have pounded in my head, consistently beginning with one two-lettered word: if—. 

If only—, if it were this way—, if I could just—, if it were different—, if I were there instead of here… 

And I find myself never satisfied, never able to grasp the fairy-tale life I envision. I live life missing a million miracles that are only found when one stops in the present and gives thanks for the moment thus given. I’m blind to contentment, forget to be grateful for where I am now. God’s led me to the desert where these frequent dust storms fade away His footprints. It’s hard to trust, to keep plodding on when His footprints have faded into the rusty landscape. And He whispers that that’s why I must learn to hold His hand—to walk by faith and not by sight. To trust His hand when I can’t see His footprints. 

I begin to perceive, slowly, through the drizzling grey skies, that contentment is a choice and not an event based on circumstances. So I lean down and strike the match, light the candle amidst the clutter and disarray. And I quit wishing for my kind of perfect that never seems to become reality. I choose this moment to be its own kind of perfect—perfect in all its messy glory. To be content where He leads me today. I mix the flour, bake the bread, take a moment and breathe the crisp autumn air—give thanks for the now. Because even in the clutter, the too-much-to-do and never-enough-time, the tough and the hard, the giving of love and giving of myself to something I’d rather not—even here, in these desert plains, contentment and perfection can become a part of me. In this moment. Today.

It’s not a matter of waiting for it. It’s here now. Wherever I am. In this moment. ‘If only’ will never come. Because it’s never about circumstances or places or things. It’s about choice. Contentment is a choice. So I choose this moment to find unspoken glory. I choose this moment to give thanks, this moment to let go of ‘if only’ and live grateful in the now. 

What about you?