Cities, Subs & Silos

How does one live contentedly and at peace with where they are? I often get this itch to live in the city, with all its energy, people, noises, smells and events. I grew up in a city of 34 million people. I've travelled to a few cities in Europe, Asia, Central and North America. I love cities. But, I also love the countryside and have visited the farm of distant relatives in Schenectady, NY. I love the isolation and smells of mountain forests and the healing sound of ocean waves. But the suburbs? I became truly acquainted with suburb life while in college, where the surrounding city had under 1 million residents. What's to love about this attempt to combine city commodities with country space? Starbucks drive-thru, backyards, shopping malls, fireflies, chain restaurants, increased safety...

What does the city have that a suburb does not? Varying answers abound, and often with a tone of snobbery that accompanies those who, by their physical location, seem to claim they have reached the apex of a meaningful living. A suburb may have the appearance of little energy, but I find the non-stop pace and loneliness of city life carries on in the homes and hearts of suburb dwellers. And I am certain that men and women attempting to fill silos with 24/7 labor, depending on variables completely outside their control, would also show heart struggles similar to city and suburb dwellers.

As a mother, working full-time in the our home, with children age 3 and under, I miss the freedom of eating out whenever I want, having a little money for travel that isn't only to see extended family. I miss the value that volunteer work for city needs once gave my life. But, I need not look for my value in what I do, where I live or in other's opinions (or perceived opinions) of me. My life has value because over two thousand years a poor man died to give me life and freedom and he did this before I ever achieved or became anything by my culture's standards.

I recently read an interesting bit from famous 19th Century London author and preacher, Charles Spurgeon, which prompted this post. He comments on a passage in the Bible (I Chronicles 4:23) which talks about menial, unknown laborers working for the King as lowly potters and farmers. He says, "They may have desired to live in the city, amid its life, society, and refinement, but they kept their appointed places, for they also were doing the King's work. The place of our habitation is fixed, and we are not to remove from it out of whim and caprice, but seek to serve the Lord in it, being a blessing to those among whom we reside." And then he says, "In all works of faith we may count on Jesus' fellowship. It is when we are in his work that we may reckon his smile. Ye unknown workers... be of good cheer...Dwell ye with the King for his work, and when he (God) writes his chronicles your name shall be recorded."

My work may be unknown by my city, it may lack meaning as defined by religious and irreligious culture because I am not working outside the home. But, nor I am more superior by closing my Mary Kay business and choosing to stay at home full-time right now. I have value because Jesus chose to place his spirit within me. I can walk and talk with him, no matter where I live, what my roles or tasks may be. Therein, I am slowly discovering a contentment not of this world.