They Have Done What They Could: Abilolo's Musings on Contentment!

There is a particular kind of freedom that descends upon a man when he finally understands the limitations nature and God place on the human vessel. This freedom does not arrive loud with drums and trumpets. It comes quietly, like the dawn that does not seek permission to break. It comes when you have been disappointed enough times that the skin of your heart gets thickened into something we can only liken to wisdom.

In the midst of the night, while awake and meditating on Monday, 16th February, I found myself thinking deeply about the phrase; "She has done what she could;" after I had used it extempore, to counsel a loved one in a situation. And that led me on to consider in the quiets of the night; in a rather interesting manner, this woman whose name we do not even know for sure.

Some like John in his Gospel, say she was Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus and Martha. Yet others think it was some random sinful slay queen who approached Jesus because Mark left her name out in his account. This lady appears in the gospel of Mark, chapter 14, verse 8, and she does something scandalously beautiful. She takes an alabaster box of precious ointment and pours it on the head of Jesus. In fact, John too in his account, says she poured it at the feet of Jesus. But one thing they both agree with is the fact that bystanders like Judas got furious. They found themselves calculating the cost in their heads; three hundred pence worth of perfume, wasted, and they murmured their disapproval.

But Jesus looks at them, and then he looks at her, and he says something that has echoed through the past 2000 years: "She hath done what she could." The very statement that has inspired these random thoughts.

Not what she should have done nor what the experts would have advised. Not what the finance committee headed by Judas approved. What she could. And it was enough.

Here is what those midnight hours have taught me: every human being you will ever meet is operating within some strict precincts of capacity. They have their available information, which is always incomplete, of course from their human and limited senses. They have their resources, which are often scarce and finite. A worldview shaped by wounds we would know nothing about and their levels of appreciation for each situation they encounter, which is filtered through the fog of their own survival.

When you understand this truly, you stop expecting people to behave like gods. You stop being surprised when people fail. You stop compiling stories of disappointments like checks you plan to cash later. You end up saying they have done what they could. Perhaps they were involved in giving; not as much as required for your need. If you have read my book; Help, you should appreciate the gulf between Giving and Helping. Perhaps it was a betrayal dressed in some face-saving promises. Perhaps it was a certain level of silence when all you needed was a voice, or absence when you needed presence. But it was, nevertheless, what they could manage from the poverty of their own soul.

A good appreciation of scriptures reveal they do not shy about this fickle state of men with lukewarm warnings, but shout them from the rooftops. Let us consider Jeremiah, that weeping prophet who knew more about human betrayal than most of us will ever know. He was used to write down the warnings with the authority of personal experience:

"Thus saith the LORD; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD." (Jeremiah 17:5)

Notice the very form of that curse. It is not that God punishes you for trusting people. It is that misplaced trust in people often becomes its own painful consequence. When you make flesh your arm, you are leaning on something that is itself leaning. You are asking a drowning man to save you from the water. You are placing your weight on a staff that has already snapped and is on its way down!

The Psalmist understood this with the clarity of a man who had been burned:

"Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help." (Psalm 146:3)

And beware, "Put not" means "Put not." It is a commandment with dire consequences for those who disregard, disguised as advice. It is the voice of experience shouting across the centuries to those of us who keep making the same mistake.

Beholding myself like the man in the mirror, I realize I have been there. I have stood in that place where the floor gives way beneath you. Years ago, my brother who had promised me the world with the kind of love and conviction that makes you believe, died in a terrible accident in the mines. I keep saying that situation was not just the death of a person that day. A certain comfort and future died together with a collection of hopes of a young boy. Life forced me to build some real consolations and insulation with that tragic mine accident when a version of me that believed in the solidity of human promises, drowned with my brother George! May his gentle soul rest in peace!

It has taken grace to come this far. Not intelligence not some carnal strategies but Grace!

The Psalmist describes this state of disappointment with precision that makes me wince even now in Psalm 22:14-15:

"I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death."

I'd say in Twi, "na me nsa awɔ fɔm!" To wit, my hand was stuck in the ground, unable to move, unable to rise. I can fully appreciate the state the Psalmist described because I have been there multiple times in my dealings with men at the innocence of my heart. The dust of death is not a metaphor when you have trusted and have been betrayed.

Indeed, there is also a scripture in Proverbs which gives us another image that haunts me:

"Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint." (Proverbs 25:19)

Can you imagine? A hungry man who has been waiting earnestly for food, the food arrives and just when you finally bite down, expecting nourishment, the tooth decides to come off with blood and pain! Now you have neither the food nor the ability to eat. You have pain added to your hunger.

That is what happens when men fail you. You do not simply lose what you were hoping for but the capacity to hope. You lose the trust that would allow you to try again. The very instrument of receiving gets broken in the process of reaching.

The prophet Jeremiah, again, makes the following diagnosis that cuts:

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9)

This is not cynicism nor the bitterness of an old man who has been disappointed too many times. The Jeremiah scripture is essentially the revealed nature of the human being without God. Once we set God aside, we are capable of wickedness that surprises even us! We can hurt people we love. We can break promises we meant to keep all with impunity. In fact, we can be the villain in someone else's story while believing with all our hearts that we are the hero.

And yet, in our resolve to chart a life out here in the shadows of death, we continue to throw caution to the wind. We continue to trust. Some of us; and I include myself here, are particularly vulnerable because we have no guile. Because we are intentionally genuine and good, we assume others are also good. Because we would do it easily for others, we assume others will do it easily for us.

This is a beautiful quality for humanity yet could also be a dangerous one.

So what do we do? Do we build walls so high that no one can enter? Do we turn our hearts to stone and pledge never to trust anyone ever again?

No! That is not the way. I can confidently say that is the path to a different kind of death.

For the paths of life, we ought to learn to distinguish between trust and expectation. We must learn to give without keeping a ledger, offer love without demanding that love be returned in the manner we prefer and even when it hurts, we must say like Jesus our Master; "They have done what they could."

Mark 14:8 beyond being a verse about a woman with expensive perfume, becomes a lens through which we view every human interaction. She did what she could! He did what he could. They did what they could. Perhaps it was not enough. Perhaps it fell embarrassingly short. But it was the maximum output of their current capacity. Truth is, the moment you see people this way, you stop bearing grudges, taking their failures personally. You stop expecting a fountain to give off bitter and sweet water from the same source.

Paul, writing to Timothy, gives us the final piece to conclude with;

"But godliness with contentment is great gain." (1 Timothy 6:6)

Here, Contentment is not the absence of desire. It becomes the absence of demand. It is the quiet knowledge that your ultimate supply does not come from human pipelines. It comes from God himself who uses whomsoever he pleases to meet your needs. Hence we must all put in efforts to please God alone and to acknowledge him in all our ways, to direct our paths!

The woman with the alabaster box understood this. She was not performing for the crowd nor seeking their approval. She was doing what she could for the One whose opinion actually mattered. And in doing so, she became immortal.

You and I, are invited to the same freedom. We are invited to stop outsourcing our worth to people who are still trying to find their own. We are invited to stop expecting completion from those who are still incomplete. We are invited to do what we can, and to let others do what they can, and to rest in the knowledge that the final verdict on our lives does not come from the jury of human opinion.

They have done what they could; perhaps it was not much, but it is not about them. It never was!

But as you've learned the secret, you have seen behind the curtain. You know now that the only arm that does not break is the one that held the universe together.

Put not your trust in princes. Put it where it belongs. And enter His rest!

Many people move through life without awareness of the impact they have on others. They go through life without conscience or sensibilities for others. But you do not have to be one of them. You do not have to let their foolishness become your destruction.

You can simply say it, quietly, when the disappointment comes:

She hath done what she could. And you can move on. With your head up. Perfectly unscathed. ❤️‍🩹🕊️

Thanks for Reading!
@Michael A. Sarfo-Kantanka
maskant25@yahoo.com

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