By Les Ferguson, Jr.
Columnist
As I write this, it is early Saturday evening in Paris, Mississippi. It is raining, and the daylight is slowly fading
away.
To say I am relaxed and comfortable is quite an understatement. There are no chores to be done, my
sermon for tomorrow is ready, and all is well in my world.
Ole Miss is on the TV, and I’m perched on one end of the loveseat with my feet propped up and blanket
and Dot’s Pretzels close at hand. Four good dogs are sleeping around me.
Can you say glorious? I can. It is a beautiful fall day — a beauty grounded in contentment.
My high school graduating class motto was Philippians 4:13 (CSB): “I am able to do all things through him
who strengthens me.” Unfortunately, this short verse, while powerful, has been taken out of context. It’s
not about defeating your enemy or triumphing over difficulties. Instead, it’s about how the Apostle Paul
learned to be content regardless of his circumstances—whether in plenty or want.
True confession: I have a fantastic wife and a great house, drive a nice truck, enjoy living in the country,
and love my job. My life is living proof that tragedies, difficulties, and challenges can be overcome. Yet, I
sometimes struggle with contentment.
It’s true. Sometimes, my wants get out of whack, and I need a little help—mainly from my wife—to dial
back and focus on contentment. However, I will share with you a dispute at my house.
Remember how I started this column? I am on one end of a loveseat, watching football with my feet
propped up on the coffee table. A love seat? Yes, I have a complaint.
A self-respecting man needs a recliner, preferably an oversized leather recliner with an adjustable head/
neck rest. Cup holders and USB connections are optional, but strongly preferred. If you can’t be at the
game, that is the best way to watch.
However, she-who-must-be-obeyed thinks recliners are ugly and, therefore, to be avoided at all costs. You
see how misunderstood and mistreated I am?
Recently, though, she found one she thought was pretty. Pretty? Recliners are not supposed to be pretty.
At any rate, that flowery thing came with a $6,000 price tag. Seriously! With that cost, it needed four tires
and a steering wheel!
My contentment wanes as I remain recliner-less — poor, poor, pitiful me. I comfort myself with the
thought that Santa might visit me this year. At least I hope he can fit a recliner on his sleigh.
In the meantime, life is full of blessings; if you are reading this, you are also a blessing. May the coming
holidays bring you great joy!