Once my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I glanced around Maria’s dark bedroom. Dirt floor; one naked lightbulb; adobe walls unadorned except for a coloring-book picture of an angel that she decorated at our recent Christmas party. As I took in the rickety bed in one corner, and a couple of wooden chairs against the other wall, I realized that this was probably not just Maria’s bedroom, but her whole house, except for the outdoor courtyard where she cooked her meals and kept her sheep.

This elderly lady, lying in her tiny bed as she neared the end of her life, was one of the most faithful believers I knew. She was also one of the most humble, and not just in the local way of using that word to describe someone living in poverty. She trusted the Lord to provide her daily bread and was content with her lot in life. Maria truly exemplified what it meant to “walk humbly with her God.” (Micah 6:8)

I looked at Maria’s dirt floor and was stung to remember the feelings that overwhelmed me when we left Ohio after our latest home assignment. It was hard saying goodbye to family and friends, of course, but I was especially sorry to leave our comfortable home with indoor heat and wall-to-wall carpeting. How quickly the material comforts of life had taken front and center in my heart!

I’m humbled by believers like Maria – people who literally have to ask and trust God to supply their daily bread, yet are content, because they know they’re held in God’s hand. They’ve learned the secret of being content. I relate a bit more to the complicated feelings of the rich man, when Jesus told him that the way to enter the kingdom of God was to sell his possessions and give to the poor. I’m grateful to read that Jesus didn’t rebuke the man, but instead, “Jesus looked at him and loved him.” (Mark 10:17-24)

Somewhere between my furlough home’s carpet and Maria’s dirt floor, I’m trusting that God will teach me the secret of contentment as well.