If Only I Had Just A Little More . . .

If only I had a little more money,
I could make a difference.

If only I had a little more talent,
I could really write things that would impact lives.
If only I had a little more time,
I could spend more time with the hurting.
If only I had better looks,
I could be more confident.
If only I lived in a different location, I
could be involved in my community.

If only…

I’ve used them all. All the “if onlys” in the book. It seems I never have enough to the things that need to be done. Excuses thrown against the wall.

“If only I had more, think of what I could do.” But since I don’t, I quit, or give of myself half-heartedly, convinced that I don’t have what it takes. And the latent resentment that builds, thinking I’ve been ripped off, thinking of all I don’t have, instead of what I do.

The talented awe me. They sing effortlessly, write flawlessly, speak convincingly. If only I had that talent. I’m like the sap who just had a single talent and buried it in his yard, afraid it would be lost or stolen. Instead, it went unused which is a worse crime.

How much time do I spend, thinking about what I could do, if only? What if my energies were spent appreciating, cultivating and using what meager abilities I have.

Do I really want my unspoken epitaph to be, “he was afraid?” Or do I want it to be, “well done, good and faithful servant. You’ve been faithful with a few things, so I will put you in charge of many.”

Could it be, the reason I don’t have more is because I haven’t been content with less?

Joining up with Graceful, Heard it On Sunday, Use it On Monday. See the others who have posted here.

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