Learning Contentment

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content” (Phil. 4:11).

My husband has been unemployed the past few weeks, a situation we’ve not experienced together during our entire twenty-six years of marriage. But I remember well the times my father was unemployed. In fact, it wasn’t until mid-life that I realized how much those years impacted me—such as the way I hate to see an empty refrigerator or the way I make certain to never run out of things in the pantry. And while my son and his friends enjoy browsing and shopping at the local thrift store, the thought of doing so produces almost a physical response in me, which I’ve realized is rooted in feelings of shame I felt from times when I had no other choice but to wear pre-owned clothes.

So, when my husband informed me of his change in job status, I felt my stomach tighten. My heart pounded. My eyes burned. And I felt panicked. I was instantly transported back to my childhood where memories of not having enough swirled in my mind, along with all the feelings of worry, uncertainty, and shame. Memory after memory played on a reel, many I hadn’t revisited in decades.

I took a breath and whispered, “this is not the same thing.”

And the Lord gently reminded me of the words of Paul in Philippians 4:

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (11-13).

The Apostle Paul experienced both times of abundance and times of lack. He knew what it was like to be full and to be empty. Elsewhere in the New Testament, we read of other areas in which Paul experienced hardship and suffering. In 2 Corinthians 11, he listed a number of trials he experienced: “Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (vv. 24-28). Talk about suffering!

And yet, regardless of his circumstances, Paul felt contentment. The Puritan minister, Jeremiah Burroughs, defined contentment as: “that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God’s wise and fatherly disposal in every situation.” It is an inner satisfaction in Christ and who he is for us. It is confidence and trust in his faithful provision of grace. It is resting in his character, knowing he only provides that which is good for his beloved children.

Interestingly, the Greek word for contentment in Philippians 4 is only used here in this verse. It means self-sufficient, independent. It was a word used by Greek philosophers to describe self-reliance, of not needing anyone or anything, of being sufficient for everything within oneself. Paul took this secular word from his day and used it to mean Christ-sufficiency. Through the power of the Spirit at work within him, he was sufficient. His strength was found in Christ’s strength. He could face and endure everything, because of Jesus Christ.

As I wrestle with contentment in my own life, I’m encouraged by Paul’s testimony. Specifically that contentment was a lesson Paul learned. It was something he grew in. Not in a sense of learning facts; rather, he learned through experience. He saw God’s goodness to him in times of plenty and in times of want. He experienced God’s strength in the midst of suffering. And through that, he learned the joy of the Lord.

Regardless of his circumstances.

In my own uncertainties these days, I find myself rehearsing the character and goodness of God to my heart. “For the LORD is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations” (Ps. 100:5).

How about you? Have you learned the secret of contentment?

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

The Wrong Kind of Contentment

Contentment is something we as believers often pray for. It's one of those things we desire but often feels just out of reach. We read Paul's description of contentment in Philippians and it seems like an impossibility, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need" (Philippians 4:11-12).

To be content in whatever situation? What does that even look like?

How are we to be content when we lose our job, when relationships are hard, when our bodies don't work right, when everyone else's dreams come true while we stand there with hands left empty?

Sometimes I think that one of the problems with our contentment is that we are content with the things we shouldn't be content with and discontent with the the things we should be contented with. 

Confused?

Perhaps we are discontent because we are too content with the wrong things.

We are content in our lack of growth in faith

We are content with barely skimming the top layer of Scripture

We are content with this world and what it has to offer

We are content with how we treat others

We are content with our bad habits, the idols of our hearts, and our "respectable" sins

We are content in the superficiality of our relationships

We are content with our text-like prayers and crying out to God only when we are in need

We are content with how little we really know about God

We are content with a heart that loves this world more than we long for the next

In being content with these things, we find ourselves discontent with where we live, our marriage, our friendships, our work, and where God has placed us. We zero in on these things and think that if they changed, our life would be better. We compare what we have to what others have. We disconnect and disengage and seek all that is greener on the other side. 

In effect, we are content with a halfhearted devotion to Christ. Our hearts are turned away from Christ and toward false idols we think will satisfy a parched soul. The secret to Paul's contentment in all circumstances, whether he had plenty or had little, was that his heart was fixed on Christ. "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (vs. 13). Like Paul, our own contentment needs to be rooted in Christ, who he is, what he has done, and who we are because of it. 

In Christ, we have all we need or could ever desire. In him we find our meaning and purpose. We find our identity as an image bearer and as a child of the living God. Finding our meaning in him keeps us focused on the work he has for us rather than what he is doing in the lives of others. In Christ, we find the mercy, grace, and salvation we desperately need. This is our greatest need and one that can only be met in him.

And as we look to him, seeking to know him through his word, our hearts are surgically transformed by his living and powerful word. The more his word and the truths of the gospel work in us, the more our desires conform to his will, and the more we find ourselves content with whatever circumstances the Lord provides. 

When we find our hearts discontent and we long for something new and better and we begin to look for it in all the wrong places, we need to cry out to God. Not to ask him to make our lives better but to ask for a clean heart. We need to seek him in repentance, applying to our heart what Christ has done for us in the gospel. We need to abide in him, remembering that apart from him, we can do nothing.

Then the one thing we ask for won't be what our neighbor has. It won't be a change in circumstance. It won't be a plea for something new or better. Rather we'll be able to say with the psalmist, "One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple" (27:4). 

When Discontentment Steals Our Joy

Crunch. The sound of my shoes echoed with each step. The trail before me was layered with fallen leaves. It was as though the trees had disrobed and blanketed the forest floor with their golden hued cloaks. Even as I walked, leaves continued to rain down around me. 

The mountains are where I feel most alive. I especially love hiking in the fall when the air is crisp and cool. I am always struck by God's handiwork this time of year, where the trees are dressed in shades of red, gold, orange, and brown. Seeing his glory in the creation awakens my dull senses. Even the scientific facts behind the tree's annual disrobing strikes me with wonder. Their autumnal transformation is the revealing of their true colors. No longer producing food, the trees lose their verdant hue, uncovering the deep reds, bright yellows, and rustic orange shades that we all love so much to see.

A Discontented Heart

I always thought I would live in the mountains but instead I live by the sea. The disparity between the longings of my heart, of being where I feel most alive, and the place God has put me these past twenty years is wide. Over the years, my discontentment has grown and spread, breeding bitterness, selfishness, and anger. For my heart, discontentment has been like a slow leak, gradually draining me of joy and peace.

In the face of such discontentment, some would say, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade" or "Bloom where you are planted." These proverbial statements are spoken to encourage us to make the best of what we have. It seems like helpful advice, but it doesn't get at the source of true contentment. We can't just resolve to be content or "think happy thoughts" to dispel unhappy ones. Rather our contentment must be built on something more solid, more sure, and more lasting. Because the truth is, we are weak. Our resolve fades. The sin in our hearts leads us astray until we are right back where we started.

The Apostle Paul spoke about contentment in Philippians. "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength" (Philippians 4:11-13). For Paul, Christ was the source of his contentment. He knew that to live was Christ and to die was gain (Philippians 1:21).

The truths of the gospel, of who he was because of Christ's perfect life, sacrificial death, and resurrection, were the foundation on which Paul stood. He knew that whether he lived with plenty or didn't know where his next meal came from, he was secure in Christ. Because the Spirit of Christ lived in him, he had all he needed. In every situation, the Spirit strengthened him to face trials and tribulations. His security, joy, purpose, and satisfaction was in Christ, not in his circumstances. This is the secret to contentment--not cold glasses of lemonade or blooming flowers or happy thoughts.

My discontentment comes from the same place as the grumbling desert-wandering Israelites. My heart has turned away from its true love. I've attempted to fulfill my soul-thirst with something other than the pure living water that Christ died to give me. I'm focused on the comforts and cares of this life and not the one to come. I've failed to remember all that God did to deliver me from slavery and instead of living a life of gratitude, my heart only grumbles and complains.

Real and Lasting Contentment

The Spirit is gracious and reminds me of the way to true and lasting contentment. Psalm 37:4 says "Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart." When Christ is my delight and my source of joy, it changes the trajectory of my heart. What Christ wants, I want. Instead of looking at what I don't have, my heart rejoices in all that I do have because of and through him. Love and gratitude transforms my desires so that they revolve around Christ and what pleases him. And like, Paul, no matter the circumstances, my well of contentment is deep and overflowing, for it flows freely from its source in Christ himself.

God places us in circumstances and situations that we often don't understand. Sometimes he doesn't give us what we want because he knows what we really need is not a change in situation but more of him. The more we grow to depend and trust in him, the more we find our joy in knowing him, and the more we seek him above all else, the more we will appreciate the manna he provides. Our grumbles fade in his presence. Rather than complain about the challenges of life, we'll look to Christ for contentment, security, and peace. All our desert wanderings will create in us a longing not for the slavery of the past but the glory of forever rest found in the Promised Land to come.

As I consider the beauty of the trees in autumn, how they are at their most beautiful right before they enter a season of dying, my heart longs to bring my Creator glory in how I live--no matter the season. When seasons of winter lie before me, I want to reflect the radiance of Christ. Like the trees in fall, I want to live out my calling in submissive and joyful obedience. I want to find my contentment in being a redeemed daughter of the King, not in my circumstances, dreams, or plans. 

Will I ever move to the mountains? I don't know. But I do know that not being where I long to be is a reminder of how this world is not my home. My true, forever home still awaits. And as long as Christ remains the joy and treasure of my heart, I will be content wherever I am because he is with me.