Really, it’s true. Being rich “implies having more than enough to satisfy normal needs or desires” (thank you, Webster). Well, I guess my first question is why anyone wants more than enough? Doesn’t enough imply that you have…well…enough? (Enough can be defined as “to a degree or quantity that satisfies” - Mr. Webster again.) But at this point we enter some fuzzy waters (hope you don’t mind the mixed metaphor). How does one measure satisfaction? While one person might think that owning a bicycle is enough, someone else might believe that a car and a truck and a motorcycle are absolutely necessary for their lives. Some are satisfied with a bowl of cereal for a meal, others insist on a full four courses. I cannot tell you what enough is, that is something you must work out in your own life, but I know there is something inside of mankind that is constantly craving satisfaction, and very few people experience it for extended periods of time. Hunger is a good thing, but not if it is a state of being. Everyone needs points of satiation and contentment – I believe it is one of the greatest gifts we have: to be able to desire and to feel fulfillment over and over again.
So what does this have to do with being rich? Well, come with me and think outside of the realm of goods, property, or money for just a moment. If you could have an abundance of something, anything, what would you choose? Contrary to popular belief, my first impulse was not cats! Nor was it watermelon! Here are some of the things I have asked God for richness in: I want loads of love in my life, acres of truth, miles of peace, truckloads of friends, piles and piles of sunset-like beauty and awe, unlimited laughter, large boxes of surprises, wisdom as far as the eye can see, mercy that doesn’t run out EVER, a deep well of forgiveness, a long road of adventures, a great big extra helping of gratefulness, a silo of healing, a big fat bouncing passionate spirit, a mountain of faith, and you can super-size me on the creativity.
I grew up on a farm and one spring my mother set aside several rows in her large garden and told me I could plant whatever I wanted and the harvest was mine to do with as I pleased. I lost no time in choosing my favourites: I planted pumpkins for pumpkin pie, corn because I loved fresh corn on the cob, a few carrots and kohlrabi and peas for nibbling on right out of the garden, and of course, a large patch of watermelons. After all the seeds were in the ground and I knew I had more than enough to satisfy my appetite and share with my family, I was dismayed to find that I still had an entire row left to sow. I couldn’t just leave it empty, so I picked out a packet of one of my favourite flowers and pressed the seeds into the furrow. I don’t remember much about how well my vegetables did that year but I will never forget (nor will my mother) that startling tall row of bright red poppies that set the entire field aflame with colour for most of the summer and was visible to all who drove past our farm.
Anyone can be rich. Start with a seed. Plant a lot of it. Watch it grow. Share.