to be rich.

We run from the silence. Trodden hearts heavy with responsibility, our refuge becomes the noise, the watching, the disconnect between the living & the color. The pictures come in clear, audience laughs with contentment, ads boast of better lives, and the must-haves jump out to meet our simple existence.

And suddenly, contentment swirls downward, lost in translation.

The flashing lightbox is seen through the windows. Entertainment for the evening. Laughter comes from the funny man on the screen, squeals of satisfaction when the imagined good guy wins.

But who is winning among the living? And furthermore, what is winning among the breath, the real lives that sit in front of those motion pictures? The ones drinking in the ads, the sales, the colors, the must-haves, the funny man; the ones believing that mystical kool-aid will makes their lives better, fuller, happier.

We sit for hours. At least two, just talking over gradually emptying plates. Reminiscing about the day, the past, the present; gratitude that hangs in the air. I breathe it in.

And after the table is cleared, smiles exchanged, “sleep well”’s wished upon one another, I retreat to my quiet abode. And just like the thankfulness that hung about the dinner table, I breathe in the silence—a welcomed retreat.

Without the distractions, absent the clamor, I finally think.

Think about the fact that my Bible, my life-blood, has been lying unopened for the past two weeks. The internet has claimed my attentions…now leaving me parched of The Water of Life.

Think about my patients, wishing they could know the love, breathe in the sweet sounds of nostalgia shared around the dinner table.

Think about my siblings, hoping they fully grasp the meaning of together someday—the together that breeds purity & contentment without the disturbance of the common-world.

Think about my marriage, praying that we, too, will be fully content living on the air of gratitude. Praying that we might come to realize that flashing pictures don’t serve as entertainment, praying that we might run against the grain of this world’s draught & come to the Fountain of Life together each day, and praying that our lives will be better, fuller, happier just because we have each other.

Think about my habits: the ones that keep me glued to my mobile technology & away from the joys of the living; the ones that keep me awake with the owls tying loose ends that were left behind during the daylight; the ones that make me void of deliberation—deliberate relationships, deliberate acts of kindness, deliberate giving; and perhaps most of all, the habits that stifle my growth—that permeate the air I breathe & taint the purity of my gratitude.

Think about my latitude—how lucky I am to:
- live here, in this country;
- to have a husband that realizes its distinction & sacrifices to serve it
- be fed each day & sleep each night with a belly full of sustenance & Bread
- live safely, securely, & sleep soundly
- have my health--& that of my family
- be stained in the red of Jesus

And so I wish. For me. For you. For children & parents & families everywhere…I wish for new air—full of gratitude, of conversation, sharing, & happiness. I wish for lives that recognize the living & turn to it, to one another; lives that shut off the colored pictures & stare at God’s crafted palate outside. I wish for time invested in memories, laughter, less-serious circumstances; time away from the plug-in’s, away from the “me’s”, & toward the “us’s”.

Most of all, though, I wish for simplicity.

“To know when you have enough is to be rich” –Lao-Tzu