Can You Be Content

Can you be content
With what you are?
Me neither.
But we sin
In our displeasure.
And it's a shame really,
For the coarsest of us  
Is so wonderfully fashioned,
Made for a purpose,
Not our purpose
But His.  
And to spite
Our ungrateful hearts,
There are times 
When grace meets us
Where we are.
Blessed days 
Of reckless abandon,
As if what we were 
Were what we should be,
Days of rest
Amidst the tumult
Of ambition.
And the sun shines down
Upon us there
In the empty spaces
That lie between 
The disappointments of the past
And the dreams 
Of what we'll one day be.
It's there we meet
The truth
Of God's creation.
It's there we worship
The creator 
And not the image
Of what we can create.
And it warms us 
With the knowledge
That we are
The thing that's needed
Just here,
Just now.
​Isn't that enough.