It’s just about springtime, and I tread down the broken sidewalk, trying to dodge the mud puddles that line the way. The sky is gray again, and the smoky air is still filled with winter smells that make it difficult to breathe. I look around at the faces of the people. Nothing new. In fact, it seems like nothing ever changes. Grim expressions, rude remarks, and pushy people surround me as they hurry to the market, to their jobs, and to their homes.  

I watch as a stray dog makes its way down the street ahead of me, stopping to sniff out the litter strewed on the ground. Dark, bare trees reflect the atmosphere of the city as its residents grumble about low salaries and high expectations. In all honesty, I can’t blame them, because there isn’t much to be too happy about. Winter is cold, life is hard, and the dark, coal-mining city is far from beautiful. 

I continue walking toward the church building and open the creaky door. It quickly closes behind me, shutting out the gray and taking me to another world. Here, the sound of laughter and music intermingled with excited chatter fills the building. Smiling faces and open arms run toward me, squeezing and hugging me until it almost hurts.  

I look around, taking in the faces of the people in church.   

I look around and see it.  

Contentment. 

Same city, same salaries, same conditions.  

Different life.  

Jesus once said, “…I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” John 10:10b 

Dark clouds continue covering the city outside, but that doesn’t matter. Us inside the building, we’re content, because it isn’t about the season of the year or the city we live in. It’s about contentment in Christ, the One who gives us abundant life.