I’m on the Norwegian Pearl Cruise Ship as I write this. It may seem odd to write about contentment when I’m on a luxurious cruise ship (after all, the Apostle Paul wrote about contentment from prison), eating all the food I could ever imagine, enjoying a thermal spa daily, being able to exercise in the gym at any hour of the day on top-of-the-line machines, and viewing entertaining programs on a nightly basis– comedy, acrobatic displays and wonderful dancing. But the Apostle Paul said that he learned to be content whether he was in want or had plenty.

Contentment seems like something you need to strive towards when you’re in want– when you’ve lost your job or your finances are caving in, or your air conditioning just broke and the outside temps bulge above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It makes sense to talk about the key to contentment in those circumstances, right? But when you are tasting ‘abundance’– is it normal to struggle with contentment then?

Am I content you wonder as I cruise along on this small city-like ship visiting the beautiful ports of Alaska? Though I certainly would mention on my “cruise feedback slip” that service could be faster at the Summer Palace dining room (the particular dining room that reminds me of scenes from “The Titanic” in terms of it’s fancy decor) I really am very content and extremely thankful for God’s generosity towards me through my mom, who took me on this cruise.

But I haven’t always experienced contentment when having plenty.

Flashback to the summer of 1992.

I spent 6 weeks on a mission trip during the summer break sandwiched between my junior & senior year in college, in the “just-emerging-from-Communism” country of Albania. Albanians were experiencing freedom for the first time in over 40 some years and the country was in a tumultuous time of transition as they tried to set up structures of democracy. I remember there were very few shops open, 1 or 2 cars on the road in the capital city, people waiting in line for bread, and very scarce provisions all around. It was a summer that opened my eyes to people living with far less than what I was used to growing up in the suburbs of Chicago.

As our time came to an end after 6 intensely beautiful weeks in the country and we boarded the plane to leave Albania, when the stewardess handed out the meal and accompanying plastic wrapped set of utensils and napkins, I began to cry as I touched the napkins because we hadn’t touched a paper napkin during our entire stay in Albania– and then receiving one on the plane that came wrapped in its own plastic shell seemed like such an undeserved privilege that I felt truly guilty. I promised myself that I would pray for Albania every time I took a shower, considering how fortunate I was to have hot running water with perfect pressure at any time of the day, something that we had lacked during our 6 weeks there. I didn’t want to forget the harsher realities that my new Albanian friends endured all the time as they lived constantly in what I would consider a “state of want” rather than plenty.

Another memory I have is the “reverse culture shock” I encountered upon arriving back in the U.S. I didn’t experience the culture shock one might expect upon entering Albania– I guess I had been preparing for the worst and was pleasantly surprised that Albania was better than I expected. But the reverse culture shock really hit me hard. Seeing the abundance of things (and especially the waste) in the U.S– food, electricity, appliances, paper cups (I cried over a McDonald’s paper cup in Germany en route from Tirana to Chicago), rolls upon rolls of plush & colorful toilet paper, the glitter and colors in store malls bombarded my eyes as I re-entered my home culture.

I remember feeling judgmental toward others– because they had so much and didn’t even realize how much of the world lived without– wardrobes of clothes and shoes that encompassed a whole room that we call a closet– and I’d think of my Albanian friends who had maybe one or two special outfits that they took great lengths to care for so that they would last that much longer.

A few days after I got back, my mom said something about wanting to will to me some of her special family heirlooms of jewelry. My response was brazen and accusatory, like, “those are meaningless, I don’t want your heirlooms”– everything seemed so excessive to me– and I was feeling guilty for having plenty– for growing up in a country that was abundantly blessed, for having certain privileges that I knew my Albanian friends hadn’t experienced before.

So Paul’s words penned while in prison were comforting yet challenging to me as I needed to ‘learn to be content’ even in plenty, in abundance, when all of my needs were met and then some.

“Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” (Philippians 4:11-13, The Message)

Paul says that contentment is something that we learn. Integral to Paul’s ‘recipe’ of happiness whether full or hungry was the central ingredient of focusing on Jesus, the One who provides enabling strength to face whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.

I’ve discovered that a thankful and generous heart is also key to experiencing contentment in both situations. When I’m in want– the times in Albania when we lose electricity unexpectedly, have no water to shower at a convenient time of the day, or am unable to enjoy a favorite fruit like blueberries or find the perfect-fitting clothes without a Carson’s nearby– having an attitude of gratitude lifts my heart out of self-pity and reminds me to focus on all that I do have. And being generous with my finances, time or possessions frees me from guilt when I am living with plenty– it is the key that opens the door of joy–  and helps me to be free from “attachment” to things so that what I ‘posses’ does not posses me.

When I’m experiencing plenty– like being on this amazing cruise ship where someone else makes my bed, cleans my room, and prepares my meals daily– I don’t need to feel guilty– again, having a thankful heart reminds me that every good and perfect gift comes down from above, from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows (James 1:17).

Though my circumstances frequently change– my Heavenly Father does not– and He knows how to best provide for my needs, taking care of the most intimate details of my life, and He delights in lavishing His love and care for me, in situations of both want and plenty.

P.S. Thanks, Mom, for the wonderful cruise, and yes, I’d enjoy those special heirlooms one day!

Have you ever struggled with having too much? What has helped you experience contentment in those situations? I’d love to hear your comments on this topic!

Photos by: 1. Tamara Doci, 2. Brad Harrison