Do you ever get impatient? Ever find yourself frustrated by the way things are going — or not going? Ever feel dissatisfied with your circumstances and wish they were better? Ever feel there’s not enough time in the day? Not enough energy to do it all? Not enough money at month’s end? Not enough of you to go around? If so, then welcome to the club. The club of discontented people.
For many of us, impatience, frustration, and dissatisfaction are part of our daily routines. We want control, so we demand that our surroundings adjust to us, rather than vice versa. What we don’t like, we change. We change the channel. We change jobs. We change churches. We change friends. We know we “should” be content, but we’re not. We think that if our circumstances change (for the better, of course) then we will be satisfied and content. Then we will have enough.
Contentment, I’m learning, is a state of the heart, not a state of affairs. It is available to everyone — no matter what the circumstances.
Paul deals head on with the topic of contentment in Phil. 4:11-13. Let’s look at the key phrases in this passage.
“FOR I HAVE LEARNED…”
Contentment is learned. It isn’t natural. We’re not born with it. Our tendency is to look for things that will make us content, rather than putting forth the discipline it takes to learn how to be content. The first time we took our kids skiing, my one daughter made it clear that she didn’t want to “learn.” She just wanted to ski like the rest of the people on the slope. Skiing isn’t like that, and neither is life. It takes willingness and effort to learn anything. We can’t just wish things into existence. Contentment is no different. It, too, must be learned.
“TO BE CONTENT…”
Contentment is internal. It’s being satisfied, having an ease of mind. Contentment means detachment from anxious concerns over the externals of life. It’s a calm acceptance of whatever life brings — an attitude of “it’s okay.” The person who is content has internal sufficiency regardless of outward circumstances. Paul, even with his hands in chains, accommodated himself to his situation.
In their book Life 101, John-Roger and Peter McWilliams state it this way: “Until we truly accept everything, we cannot see clearly.” They go on to explain that accepting is not condoning, giving consent, agreeing with, or even liking what is. Acceptance is an internal conclusion that the way things are is the way things are. That these exact circumstances are allowed by God and, right now, it’s enough.
Several years ago I was directing a winter program for The Navigators’ Eagle Lake Camp. The plan for the day was to cross-country ski to a place called Kite Lake. It was supposed to be a pleasant trek, with nice snow and nice weather. What we experienced was Antarctica! The route was icy and rocky. The weather was frigid, with blowing snow. As the guide, I was upset and disappointed. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I remained stuck in my misery until a camper smiled and said, “You know, it just doesn’t get any better than this!” My tension broke and I laughed. My focus shifted from what wasn’t going right to an internal voice that said, “It’s okay. This is a real adventure!” The weather hadn’t changed, our food was still frozen, but I accepted the circumstances and was able to relax. I was amazed at the sense of contentment I enjoyed for the rest of the day.
“WHATEVER THE CIRCUMSTANCES…”
Contentment is surrender. Paul could be content, he could be patient, because he had given up any right or demand on the people and circumstances around him. For us, when life goes wrong, our impatience shouts, “It’s not my way, not my timing, not my outcome!” Contentment, on the other hand, holds out open hands before a holy God and says, “God, Your way, Your timing, Your outcome.”
But surrender cuts against our grain. We want control, choice, and to be treated fairly. The paradox is this: Contentment is gained only when we give up control and accept whatever comes. Viktor Frankl, a Jewish psychiatrist who survived the Nazi concentration camps of World War II, put it like this: “The way in which a man accepts his fate and all the sufferings it entails, the way in which he takes up his cross, gives him ample opportunity — even under the most difficult circumstances — to add a deeper meaning to life.”
The notion of surrender first began its journey into my heart many years ago on a train trip back from Mexico City. The train derailed. As I waited for it to be fixed, I began to worry about my wife, who was supposed to meet me at the station on the Mexico-Arizona border. I was more than 12 hours late, and she was alone. I felt helpless — I could do absolutely nothing to keep her safe. I couldn’t even contact her. It was then that God’s truth whispered in my ear, “Give up trying to control the circumstances, Tim. Let Me be the One in control. Surrender.” I had no choice. I had to surrender her safety into God’s hands alone. At that moment I felt at peace. I had begun my journey of surrender.
Since that time, other difficult circumstances have come into my life, but the conversation has remained similar. Time and again I hear God’s voice saying, “Tim, let Me be in control. Surrender. Accept My way, My timing, My outcome. Trust Me alone.” Continued surrender comes more easily when I sit silently before God and let Him do the talking.
“THE SECRET…”
Paul was familiar with need. He was familiar with plenty. They were his “friends,” that’s how well he knew them. He was intimately aware of what it was like to be well fed and to be hungry. He also knew what it was like to be beaten, stoned, hunted, shipwrecked, and imprisoned. But something internal sustained him through life’s ebb and flow. He had learned something during his rough-and-tumble life that allowed him to have peace. What he found was not easily understood, then or now. It was hidden from the casual observer — he calls it a secret. Like Paul, we can be content wherever we find ourselves if we know the same secret — a secret found when we make these three truths an active part of our daily walk.
1. Remember the cross. “For to me, to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21). The cornerstone of contentment is the cross. Remember what it has done in your life. Because of the cross you are freed from the chains of sin. Because of the cross, your salvation is secure. Because of the cross, your friendship with God is open. Because of the cross, your future is heaven. Isn’t that enough? What else really matters? The really big things of your life are taken care of!
Much of my time as a Christian counselor is spent sharing these truths with my clients. God has extended grace and mercy to anyone who will believe. That grace is enough! Do you need to be afraid of others’ opinions of you? No. Do you need to defend yourself after being defrauded by a friend? No. Will it hurt? Probably. “The Lord is my light and my salvation — whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life — of whom shall I be afraid?” (Ps. 27:1).
Do I need to get an ulcer over my financial uncertainties? Ouch! God always hits close to home, but the answer is still no. I remind myself of these truths every time I can. I write scriptures in my journal as a visual reminder to myself. I picture myself kneeling beside the cross every time I pray.
Contentment comes when we believe (not just pretend) that nothing else matters. That can happen only as we “turn our eyes upon Jesus” and let “the things of earth grow strangely dim.” Everything looks important until we place it next to the cross. Then, only the cross remains important.
2. Let go of the past. “Forgetting what is behind…” (Phil. 3:13). We cannot hope to ever gain contentment while holding on to past failures and mistakes — ours or others’. There’s a difference between ignoring past wrongs and forgetting them. Forgetting means that you work through the process of forgiving others and allowing God’s forgiveness to cover you. We need to let go of “I should have” or “If only” or “If they hadn’t.”
True forgiveness requires that we see the wrongs clearly (sometimes the hardest part of the process), articulate them, release them to God, and then walk away from them. This process may take a moment, a month, or even longer. It may require the assistance of a friend, pastor, or professional counselor. Don’t put it off. Without forgiveness you will never have a contented heart.
3. Take one day at a time. “And my God will meet all your needs…” (Phil. 4:19). The final element of Paul’s secret is to wait on God. We need to surrender our timetable and future to Him.
Anxiety builds inside our minds when we look into the future, when we try to manage more days than today. Let me illustrate. I enjoy rock climbing. When I’m climbing, I’m not afraid of climbing. I’m afraid of falling, which is in the future — and may or may not happen. If I fall — and while I’m falling — I’m not afraid of the fall (it’s a rush!), I’m afraid of the stop at the bottom. This time it’s a guaranteed future, but still in the future. I will stop, but what kind of stop is still unknown. Will I hit the ground or will the rope catch me first? I don’t know … yet. You see, if I’m going to climb well, I must keep my focus on the present moment only. If I allow my thinking to wander to “Oh no, what if I fall?” I only increase my chances of disaster.
Likewise, contentment requires our focus to be in the present. Much of our frustration, tension, and worry would be dissolved if we would practice the words of Jesus: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Mt. 6:34). We must live one day at a time, one moment at a time.
“I CAN DO EVERYTHING…”
If we have learned this kind of contentment, we can “do” hunger, adversity, disappointment, and hardship. We can “do” plenty, comfort, and success. It’s an attitude of the heart.
When it is time for action, we act out of obedience to God, not out of a need to control or change our surroundings. We act with confidence because we don’t need to worry about the outcome. We’ve already put that in God’s hands, and He can do with it what He wills. Regardless of what we do, win or lose, we remain content, whatever the circumstances (see Heb. 11:39). How can we do this?
“THROUGH HIM WHO GIVES ME STRENGTH.”
There’s no breath between these last two phrases. The sentence literally reads, “All things I can do in the (One) empowering me, Christ.” The punch line of the entire thought is Christ. When His powerful presence is consuming us, we can do all things. Though our humanity may falter, our souls remain unshakable through the living power that’s a result of total abandonment to Him. Without surrender to Christ’s control, we can do nothing of lasting value (Jn. 15:5). There must come a holocaust to our will. Otherwise the pain, failure, injustice, and suffering that comes with this life will destroy us. We may still look good outwardly, but our souls secretly become inebriated with bitterness, doubt, and a need to pretend. My human determination helped me endure the wind, ice, and frozen food of that ski trip. My emotional toughness will get me through my present job loss. But only Christ can generate a contented spirit in me amidst it all.
I am continually moved by the old hymn “It Is Well with My Soul,” written by Horatio G. Spafford. He penned these words as he looked out over the same waters where, just a few weeks earlier, his four daughters had drowned during a transAtlantic voyage.
When sorrows like sea-billows roll;
Whatever my lot,
Thou hast taught me to say,
“It is well, it is well with my soul.”
I love my two daughters dearly. Could I write these words? Could I surrender my heart to God’s way, God’s timing, God’s outcome? Could I tell God with an honest face, “It’s okay, I accept, I have enough”? My eyes tear as I write this. But back to the present. The hospital where I’ve been working “reorganized,” and I’m out of a job right now. I’m having to surrender my financial security to God today. I’m challenged to believe that “whatever my lot” I have enough right now. I’m learning to take a deep breath and say, “It’s okay” (even when I don’t have to look good for anyone). Having things well with my checkbook is not a prerequisite to having things well with my soul.
The Apostle Paul knew injustice and hard times. Frankl knew pain and suffering. Spafford knew sorrow and loss. Yet in the midst of chaos they also knew contentment. How about you? Is life giving you enough? Or do you think you need more?
When both your mind and soul are surrendered to the sovereign Lord of the Universe, you can do — and accept — all things that He allows into your life. You can learn the secret of being content, whatever the circumstances. The cross can be all that matters to you. Your heart can begin to whisper, “It is well with my soul” and live like it. It’s not an easy road, but through Christ we have the strength to take that journey — the only journey that will bring true contentment and peace.
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TIM SANFORD is a psychotherapist in private practice. He also works with adolescents at Rapha Christian Psychiatric Hospital in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Tim and his wife, Becky, also assist with an InterVarsity chapter at the United States Air Force Academy.
[See #4240 for quiz on contentment from this article]