p. 8 | Godliness With Contentment Is Great Gain

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Jun 8, 1911

Godliness With Contentment Is Great Gain

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE

For many years my life was blessed with the friendship and love of one of the dearest old ladies—one of the sweetest-tempered and calmest-browed Christians—that I have ever met. She had seen her share of the shadows of life,—sickness and poverty and anxiety,—and had brought up a large family; but I never remember seeing her give way to anger or discontent.

One day we were speaking about unfortunate people; some one had lost his property, and in sickness and poverty had been obliged, as a last resort, to accept the tardy charity of the public, and the unwelcome refuge of the poorhouse.

“What a dreadful thing it must be!” I exclaimed, drawing a mental picture of the county almshouse, with its unhomelike exterior and its ungarnished and unwholesome interior. “It seems to me almost the worst fate which could by any means befall any one,” I continued, “to be obliged to end one’s days in the poorhouse.”

I had never heard of any one who could take an optimistic view of such a case; so what was my surprise at hearing her merry, good-natured laugh ring out in hearty protest.

“Why, no, my dear,” she said; “there are some things much worse than being obliged to go to the poorhouse.”

Of course I looked at her in open-eyed amazement. What had this paragon of contentment to offer in favor of this—to me—condition of supreme wretchedness?

“Pray tell me what can be worse?” I insisted.

“Why, not having any poorhouse to go to, of course!” and the dear, philosophical saint of the Lord smiled brightly and reassuringly into my gloomy face, until it caught and mirrored some of the sunshine of her own.

My sweet friend is laid away to rest; but the quiet influence of her calm, contented life and cheerful disposition will never die.

“Yes,” says some tired sister, as she lifts a weary face, upon which deep lines of unhappiness and discontent have been graven,—“yes, but no one ever had just the peculiar trials and difficulties that I have always had. Hard luck and poverty have followed me from the cradle.”

But, my sister, there has no temptation taken you but such as is common to man, and I verily believe there may be others worse off still.

“It may be; but that is poor consolation. I, for one, could never get any enjoyment out of the fact that some one else was worse off than myself.”

Very well, then; get enjoyment out of the fact that some one is better off, can’t you? Just try it, anyway.

O, if there were less time spent in envying others, and more in kindly ministrations to those who are in greater need than ourselves, there would be fewer ugly lines plowed by the fingers of discontent upon brow and cheek, which might be passing fair but for this.

My dear sister, we are never to forget that we are commanded to give thanks “in everything;” not some things, not for the pleasant things alone, but everything.

“What! am I to thank God for the accident that befell me the other day? Can I be cheerful and happy when I know that the cruel tongue of slander is busy with my name? Can I be even-tempered, and keep sweet and gentle, when the children are cross and careless, and the servant is exasperating and heedless?”

Can you?—Yes. Says the Master: “My grace is sufficient for thee.” This is the promise, and it is for you. O blessed grace! O precious promise! It remains for you and me to take it at its face value.

Can we imagine the godlike Nazarene Carpenter going about his homely duties with a frown upon his face or a jarring note in his voice? But were his tasks always pleasant ones? Did he not know and feel the sting of poverty? Was the hard toil of a common laborer congenial to him whose home was among the glory-gleaming mansions of paradise?

Yet he whose attendants were the royal ministers of heaven beautified the life of common toil by his own wonderful example. Even under the very shadow of the cross, misunderstood by his best-loved friends, and maligned and spit upon by those for whom he was willing to die, never a word of discontent passed those blessed lips or marred the record and sweetness of that wonderful life.

Next week we will perhaps have another little visit upon this important theme, and see if, peradventure, we may inspire each other with more real faith in the promises of God, and more confidence in his power and willingness to help us bear the petty trials of everyday life.

Lansing, Mich.