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. Phil. 4:11-12
I like Paul. His story is lost on believers now because it’s so well-known, but seriously: he was at the top of his game, so zealous for his religion that he sought Christians out to have them killed. As a teacher of the law he would have had everything he needed. The man was passionate no matter what he did, but I’m sure he was also quite content in his lifestyle. And then Jesus is like, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), and from then on he gives up everything for the gospel.
We’re talking ship wrecks, imprisonment, beatings, no money, constant travel, constant rejection, and finally death. But no matter where Paul was or who he was facing, he was always proclaiming the gospel. As Jason Curry put it at last weekend’s D-Now, Paul didn’t make Jesus “a part of his life.” Paul was a part of Jesus’ life.
And because of that life, Paul was content. He had learned contentment. In the Feb. 16 entry in Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening, he writes,
Now, contentment is one of of the flowers of heaven, and if we would have it, it must be cultivated. It will not grow in us by nature. It is the new nature alone that can produce it, and even then we must be especially careful and watchful that we maintain and cultivate the grace that God has sown in us.
I think American Christians suck at contentment — and don’t worry, I’m speaking for myself here too. We don’t understand contentment because we don’t have to be content. You want it? Go get it. You dream it? You can do it. Isn’t that our motto? Isn’t there an app for that?
So when the Lord gives us the ol’ stiff-arm and we’re stuck in the dust for what feels like forever, our first thought tends to be “why?” when it reality, it should be something a lot more like “thank you.” Thank you, Lord, for showing me my needs, which only you can provide for. Thank you for reminding me that smart phones can’t solve my problems and facebook doesn’t equal friendship. Like the Israelites, I am stiff-necked; I refuse to bow. So you show me how to bow, and I am all the better for it.
In the Lord’s mercy, he has given me the opportunity to do youth ministry again. I have been accepted to three of my four schools (in classic Oxford fashion, I won’t hear from them for another month), and by faith I believe that he will give me the opportunity to study. And if not, I think he’ll send me into some kind of leadership in the church eventually.
But even if none of that happens, I know that the Lord hasn’t abandoned me. He consistently puts other believers in my life, believers who love me and encourage me to keep going. And he lets me encourage others through my struggles as well. So even if I’m stuck in insurance for another year, the Lord’s mercy reigns — he is teaching me to be content. Praise God!

