Tonight, I sat down after a busy day of running errands, braving the grocery store and putting up Christmas decorations, and I felt a little tug at my heart that could only be described as pure contentment.
Contentment. The destination which we all hope to reach. The place at which we feel like we’ve really made it. The state of happiness, and satisfaction that we all crave.
For most of my life, I’ve attached contentment to life’s grander moments. The day my daughter was born, holding her in my arms for the first time, I was content. The day I promised forever to my husband, with love and hope in our eyes, I was content. The day we moved into our renovated farmhouse, with keys in hand and excitement for our future, I was content.
But what if contentment wasn’t supposed to be saved for the big moments. What if contentment was really found in the small moments. The moments that oftentimes get overlooked.
A room lit by a Christmas tree and candlelight.
A cup of warm coffee in the morning.
A child’s uncontrollable laughter shared with a friend.
A wife’s hug after a long day.
A husband secretly staring at the woman he loves while she reads.
A mother sneaking a kiss on top of her newborn baby’s head.
A sunrise over a frost covered field.
A recipe coming to life from the dog eared page of a favorite cookbook.
A flicker of a fire on a fall night.
A friends encouraging word after a rough day.
A song that speaks straight to the heart.
A small prayer with a big dream.
A puppy curled up, asleep in your lap.
In these small nameless moments, that will soon be forgotten as time continues its travels—contentment lives.
For contentment isn’t the destination, it’s the journey.
As we head into the holiday season, I’m making contentment my goal— keeping my eyes open to the small moments, the ones that nudge at my heart and remind me that contentment isn’t found in where I’m going, but rather, right where I am.