Tag Archive for: Philippians 4:11

Philippians 4:11 — Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.

Are you not very good with change?

Well, good news.

You’re not alone.

There are so many people who struggle with it. And did you know something that may actually help you get through a season of change?

Embrace it.

Huh?

What do you mean, embrace it? I don’t even like it.

Exactly.

That’s the struggle, isn’t it?

We spend so much energy running from change because part of us is still hoping it isn’t really happening. We like things to stay the same. We like comfort. We like what’s familiar.

So change feels terrifying.

But when you fight against the moving current of change, you’re actually making it harder on yourself. You’re causing even more stress by pushing against something you can’t stop.

I was reading about this recently, and the simple act of acceptance can neutralize so many painful reactions.

But here’s what stood out to me even more:

Peace isn’t found when life is steady. It’s found when your heart learns to stand firm when everything else changes.

That’s what makes Paul’s words in Philippians so powerful.

He says, “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.”

Notice that word: learned.

Contentment wasn’t something Paul magically had. He learned it through changing circumstances, uncertainty, hardship, and seasons that didn’t look the way he wanted them to.

Contentment isn’t pretending you like what’s happening.

It’s learning that your peace doesn’t have to depend on what’s happening.

Because circumstances change.

People change.

Plans change.

But God doesn’t.

So when change comes your way, take a deep breath.

Instead of spending all your strength wishing this season were different, ask God to help you trust Him in the season you’re actually in.

Open your hands instead of clenching your fists.

Stay flexible instead of stubborn.

And remember: you don’t have to know exactly where the current is taking you to trust the One who is already there.

Whatever state you’re in today, contentment is something you can learn.

Not because your circumstances are perfect…

but because your God is faithful in every one of them.

 


A MOMENT TO REFLECT

  • What kind of change is hardest for you to accept right now?
  • Are you resisting something God may be asking you to release?
  • What is the difference between accepting a circumstance and approving of it?
  • Where are you tempted to believe, “I’ll have peace when things settle down”?
  • What would it look like to trust God and practice contentment in your current season?

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

The first thing you should know about Joshua is that he likes to hug. A lot.

“Bring it in, Bud!” he says every time he meets someone new. Again, he’s an enthusiastic, grinning, full-send hugger.

He is also what you might call a minimalists— someone who had it all, decided it wasn’t enough, and now lives with a lot less than most people think is practical.

He didn’t start out this way. He grew up in Ohio as a poor kid with big dreams. Like a lot of people raised without much, he chased that version of success that comes with keycards and cufflinks. By his late twenties, he was hauling in six figures and racking up frequent flyer miles.

But then life did what life does.

Joshua’s mother passed away. His marriage ended in the same month. He was just 28. He owned a large three-bedroom house and a job title longer than most church prayer lists, and he was miserable.

It was then that Joshua realized just how unhappy he was.

So, in the wake of all that, he started to let go. Of his stuff, that is. He moved into a smaller house, got rid of the TV, the DVDs, the furniture, and the backup spatula— basically everything that once gave the illusion of security. One by one, he cleared out his life.

But the miracle Joshua found, obviously, wasn’t the empty shelves.

It was the space that showed up in his soul.

See, the peace he found came when he stopped pretending that more would finally make him feel like enough. He once found identity in what he had, but now he was finding peace through surrendering all of that.

He discovered that when enough is finally enough, you realize you’ve had more than enough all along. You start hearing the birds outside again. You show up for dinner with both feet in the room. And you start hugging people. Alot.

That’s the thing no one tells you: when your arms aren’t carrying everything, they’re finally free to reach out.

So…

“Bring it in, Bud.”