Contentment in Wonderfuland

CONTENTMENT IN WONDERFULAND

Once upon a time, a country called Wonderfuland fell on hard times. There wasn’t enough food or enough warm clothes and enough jobs or enough of anything to go around. Many people worried where their next meal was coming from. Parents worried how to feed their children and keep them warm. Riots and strikes and demagogues shattered the night. Everybody was terribly, terribly insecure. So they raised one god above all others, the god called Security. Now men had worshipped Security ever since time began, but none more devoutly than the people of Wonderfuland. They devoted their whole lives to seeking the blessings of Security.

From morning to night they labored for Security. In Strange rituals, they dug gold from the ground and buried it again. They built awesome weapons to protect their Security. And they sacrificed their sons in strange little places-all in the name of Security. And Security, pleased by their devotions, showered blessings upon them until Wonderfuland became the richest, mightiest nation the world had ever known. So at long last, for the first time in history there was enough of everything to go around. “At last we have the blessings of Security,” said the people happily. And, not knowing what else to do, they went right on laboring for Security.

Pretty soon, they had more than enough food, more than enough clothes, more than enough gold- and weapons so awesome they could never use them. Each man, to show his devotion, strove to accumulate the symbols of Security-a bigger car, a bigger house, and scrolls of paper attesting to his faith. Scrolls known, naturally enough, as “Securities.” Then a strange thing happened. The more blessings of Security the people of Wonderfuland enjoyed, the more they worried about losing them. They worried that their cars would be dented or their homes burned down or their securities rendered worthless. They worried that the gold they could never use would somehow drain away. And they worried vaguely whether sacrificing their sons in holy wars was the right thing to do. Sometimes in the middle of the night, they would awake to wonder what life was all about. But they seldom talked about that. And they drank their martinis dry.

Meanwhile, their children grew and it came time to give them a goal to seek. The parents gave them the only goal they knew: “You must,” said the parents devoutly, “get good grades so you can get a good job so you can make good money so you can enjoy the blessings of Security.” But the children, who had never known hunger and want, looked at their parents uneasily. And they put on strange clothes and took strange drugs and danced to strange music to seek strange gods they might never find.

So it came to pass that everybody in Wonderfuland was terribly, terribly insecure-the young because they had no god to worship, and the old because they did.

The story is told of a young boy who drew up a list of the goods of life. He included health, love, talent, power, riches, and fame. Then he showed his list to an elderly wise man who, upon examining the it, ruled them all off and wrote down three syllables: “peace of mind.” How often children of God overlook this. To be content helps us to have peace in ourselves. The peace of God, which passes all understanding, is a blessing of being in Christ.

The things we crave most in life-happiness and peace of mind-are attained only by giving them to someone else.

Compliments of Wolves Basketball