Are We Always Watering Something Else?
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Wherever you are on your journey, I’m so glad you found your way here.
We live in a culture obsessed with new. New phones. New clothes. New opportunities. New trends. New technology. New experiences.
It seems we're always chasing more. The next promotion. A bigger home. More friends. More from our spouses. And don't even get me started on all the "more" things we're convinced we need.
There's nothing inherently wrong with enjoying something new. I do too. The problem is that the excitement rarely lasts. Before long, there's another upgrade to make, another purchase to consider, another promise that this time we'll finally feel satisfied.
Without realizing it, we begin chasing the feeling more than the thing itself.
I know one thing God has been teaching me in this season is contentment. I get caught in the "new-more" loop just as much as anyone else. Just when I think I've finally reached a place where I can be satisfied, my mind quietly convinces me that something else would be better. Something newer. Something just a little more.
As much as I genuinely want to live with gratitude, I find myself having to fight for contentment.
Part of what makes that so difficult is the world we live in. We are constantly being marketed to. Everywhere we look, someone is showing us something better. There is always another product, another opportunity, another lifestyle promising to improve the one we already have. Before we know it, comparison becomes the lens through which we see everything.
Instead of appreciating what's in front of us, we begin believing our fulfillment is always one step away.
As I've reflected on this, I've started noticing something about the generations before us. When I think about my grandparents, I notice a completely different philosophy. If I can't find my nail clippers and I'm tired of looking for them, Amazon can have a new pair at my front door by the end of the day. If I'm scrolling Instagram and discover the newest gadget that's supposedly going to make life easier, two clicks later it's on its way to my house.
My grandmother, on the other hand, would have spent the afternoon looking for the nail clippers before she ever considered buying another pair. If something broke, she fixed it. If it could be repaired, she repaired it. She expected things to require time and effort. There wasn't always a quick fix or an easy way around it.
I started wondering what happened to repairing things. What happened to caring for what we already had? Our grandparents repaired things. Our parents maintained things. Something breaking didn't automatically mean it needed to be replaced. The newest or more efficient option wasn't always the answer. Somewhere along the way, we stopped expecting things to require patience, effort, and care.
The more I've thought about it, the more convinced I’ve become that our mindset may reveal something much deeper about the way we’ve become accustomed to approaching life.
I've noticed this in myself recently while searching for a new home. After years of hoping to move, I'm finally in a season where it feels possible. As months went by and nothing seemed to work out, it became more frustrating, and I realized I was creating much of my own frustration. Not because I couldn't find the right home, but because I had begun placing my contentment somewhere that didn't belong. I found myself believing that I'd finally feel more settled once we moved.
In the middle of all that frustration, I started to ask myself, "Am I really searching for a house... or am I searching for a feeling that no house could ever give me?" Before God gives me a new home, I think He may first want to teach me how to fully appreciate the one He has already given me.
As I've begun making small changes to appreciate and care for the home I already have, I've realized that God wasn't just teaching me to wait. He was teaching me that contentment isn't found in a new address, but in seeing my current one differently.
We've become conditioned to move on. We've become uncomfortable with remaining. We’ve become so accustomed to replacement that we've forgotten how to cultivate.
When something becomes difficult, do we work through it, or do we immediately start looking somewhere else? When a church disappoints us, do we stay long enough to grow, or do we assume the answer is another church? When work becomes difficult, do we cultivate where we are, or do we immediately believe the next opportunity will finally make us happy? When a relationship gets hard, do we learn to communicate, forgive, and grow, or do we convince ourselves that someone else would be easier to love?
Is the grass actually greener somewhere else? Or is it greener where we water it?
I know that saying has become a cliché, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that God is showing me something deeper through it. The real question isn't whether the grass is greener where we water it. The better question is: Why are we always looking for something else to water?
Are we slowly beginning to believe that fulfillment always exists just beyond what we already have?
The easier perspective is to believe that life would be better "over there." I think that's the very perspective our culture has been quietly discipling us into. I fear we've bought into a narrative that tells us fulfillment is always somewhere else.
What if God has been inviting us to cultivate the ground He's already entrusted to us? What are we missing by never staying long enough to grow roots?
Not everything in life is meant to be permanent. Sometimes God calls us to something new. Sometimes He calls us to leave. Sometimes obedience looks exactly like taking the next step. The challenge is learning to discern whether we're moving because God is leading us, or because we've quietly begun to follow our own discontent.
Another thing God has been teaching me is the importance of pausing. In Hebrew, the word Selah carries the idea of stopping, reflecting, and considering. Lately, I've been realizing how rare that has become.
Before buying. Before reacting. Before assuming. Before deciding. Before moving on.
When we pause, we create space to ask different questions: Why do I really want this? What's driving this desire? What does it mean if I never get it?
We often move so quickly that we never stop long enough to understand what we're really searching for.
There is always something to buy. Something to watch. Something to improve. Something to compare. Something to chase. There is almost no space left for quiet. Almost no room to simply breathe.
The simple act of pausing has become countercultural. And that's exactly why we need it.
I'm so grateful for the ways God continues to use the people in my life and the experiences He walks me through to remind me to pause. Before buying something I don't need. Before saying something I don't mean. Before assuming. Before reacting. Before convincing myself that happiness exists somewhere else.
In that pause, I have a choice. I can allow my thinking to be shaped by a culture that profits from my impulse, or I can allow God to reshape my perspective. We all can find things to be thankful for. We can also find things we don't have. Where we place our attention matters.
I believe God is inviting us to cultivate instead of consume. To remain instead of wander. Real growth isn't found in constantly finding something new. It's found in faithfully stewarding what He's already placed in our hands.
Reflecting on this has made me realize how many different areas of my life this can apply to. Regardless of the circumstance, I want to remember how important it is to slow down long enough to notice how easily my heart drifts toward believing fulfillment is always somewhere else. I don't want to spend my life chasing greener grass, or other ground to water, while neglecting the ground God has already asked me to tend.
There will always be more to want. More to accomplish. More to buy. More to experience. More to become. The world will never stop telling us that what we're looking for is just beyond what we already have.
The answer isn't always somewhere else. It isn't another opportunity. Another purchase. Another upgrade. Another thing. More often than not, it's learning to steward what we've already been given.
Perhaps we simply need to pause long enough to remember what we already have. Because it's in that pause that God helps us discern what we truly need, what we don't, and how to faithfully water what He's already placed in front of us.
I want to become someone who remains long enough to cultivate what God has entrusted to me. I am choosing to find contentment in what I have instead of believing it's always one step away. I'm choosing to remain grateful, while trusting God with whatever else He may have for me. Not because I have everything figured out. Not because I never feel the pull towards "more." But because I'm slowly learning that contentment isn't found in finally getting everything I've been chasing…
It's found in faithfully walking with the One who teaches me to seek first His kingdom and His righteousness.
With Love,
Godly Girl
