When I was 9 years old, our 4^th grade class studied Africa. One textbook photo showed a family of elephants, the adults protectively circled around several babies. My youthful eyes landed on those little elephants with their miniature trunks and wispy baby hair, and I fell in love.

At the dinner table that night I told my family I was going to get a baby elephant for a pet. Everyone had a good laugh and moved on to other topics, but 9 year olds don’t give up easily. I began a relentless campaign to get my elephant and refused to let it drop, even putting my plan in writing to try to make Dad understand.

I told him I would take full responsibility, would build a shed for my elephant in the back yard, and would make money to buy his food by giving rides to neighbor kids. Every bit of this logic was sincere and (at least in my mind) doable.

It didn’t take long for Mom and Dad to tire of my elephant talk, and eventually they delivered a clean-cut “no” along with, “Don’t bring it up again.” Then they added a kicker: “Margaret, you need to be content with what you already have.”

I wasn’t, and determined not to be, until I got my elephant.

Fifty-seven years later, I’ve given up on the elephant but still have trouble with contentment. My unrest isn’t from wanting a bigger house, a newer car, nicer clothes, or any other touchable possession. It’s a craving for a greater understanding of God and a mind like Christ.

Sometimes I listen to a teacher pray passionately for global revival and wonder why I’m not crying like she is. I watch a Bible study video and can’t believe I missed the specific truth she got from the verses. I hear a sermon about miracles and want to see them happening all around me. Scripture says, “No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied. No matter how much we hear, we are not content.” (Ecclesiastes 1:8)

True. And it applies as much to intangibles as to tangibles.

Finding contentment with what we have and then resting in it doesn’t come easily. The apostle Paul told us he’d found it (Philippians 4:11), and we wonder how. Then we look backwards at his life and see that virtually everything had been taken from him: home, possessions, position, respect, safety, authority, even his health. After that, if he received anything back, he appreciated it no-end and was content. He didn’t get angry or bitter, because his contentment was based on something other than what he had or didn’t have. It was based on Christ.

So, I have 2 choices. I can either lose everything like Paul did and learn contentment the hard way, or I can set aside my restlessness and let God decide when (or if) he’ll give me what I hope to receive.

And while I’m waiting, maybe I’ll take a trip to the zoo.

“True godliness with contentment is itself great wealth.” (1 Timothy 6:6)