This Season

Read

Philippians 4:11-13 "I am not saying this because I am in need, for 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."

Think

We were sitting around the dinner table one evening, Lisa and me and the kids. It was a regular weeknight. Nothing unusual. Then one of my twins, who was about eight at the time, looked up from her plate and said, "Dad, a friend at school, his parents are getting a divorce." We talked about it for a minute. Then my other twin looked at Lisa and me and asked, "Will you and Mom ever get a divorce?"

Before Lisa or I could even answer, the first twin put down her fork, looked at her brother, and said two words: "Thank you." A pause. Then again: "Thank you." She was not thanking us for answering the question. She was expressing gratitude for what she had. At eight years old, sitting at a regular dinner table on a regular weeknight, she recognized the value of the season she was living in. She did not take it for granted. She looked at our family around that table and said, "Thank you."

That moment has stuck with me for years because it exposed something most adults have lost. Somewhere between childhood and wherever you are now, most of us stopped saying "thank you" for the season we are in. We started looking ahead. We started cataloging what is missing. We started believing the lie that contentment lives in the next chapter, not this one.

Paul writes to the Philippians from a prison cell. Let that sink in. He is not writing from a beach house. He is not writing from a successful ministry tour. He is in chains, and from that cell he writes, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation." Notice the word "learned." Contentment was not Paul’s default setting. It was a skill he had to develop. He had to practice it. And he practiced it in some of the worst circumstances a human being can endure.

Here is what I have noticed. Discontentment is almost never about what you do not have. It is about what you think you should have. It is the gap between your reality and your expectations. And our culture is an expert at widening that gap. Social media widens it. Advertising widens it. Comparison widens it. Every day you are bombarded with images of what your life could look like, should look like, would look like if you just had more, did more, or were more. And the longer you stare at that gap, the smaller your gratitude gets.

Paul says, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty." He experienced both ends of the spectrum. He had seasons of abundance and seasons of deprivation. Seasons of freedom and seasons of imprisonment. Seasons where the ministry was thriving and seasons where he was beaten and left for dead. And in every single season, he found contentment. Not because the season was good. Because the source of his contentment was not the season.

That is the secret Paul is talking about. "I can do all this through him who gives me strength." The secret is the source. When your contentment comes from Christ, it is not dependent on your circumstances. When your contentment comes from your circumstances, it will fluctuate with every change in weather. You will be content on Monday and discontent by Wednesday. Content in January and miserable by March. Content when things go your way and falling apart when they do not. That is not contentment. That is circumstantial mood management.

I talk to people all the time who are waiting for the next season to start before they will engage with the current one. They are waiting for the new job before they will be faithful in the current one. Waiting for the new relationship before they will invest in the friendships they already have. Waiting for the next chapter before they will read the one they are in. And while they wait, this season, the one God specifically placed them in for a specific reason, passes them by without ever being lived.

God does not waste seasons. Every season you are in has a purpose. The season of waiting teaches you dependence. The season of plenty teaches you generosity. The season of difficulty teaches you endurance. The season of blessing teaches you gratitude. But you only receive those lessons if you are present in the season, not if you are mentally camping out in the next one.

My daughter did not know she was being profound that night at the dinner table. She was eight. She was just being honest. But her honesty cut through something that most adults spend decades trying to figure out. She looked at what was right in front of her and said, "Thank you." No comparison. No wish list. No "this is good, but it would be better if." Just “Thank you.”

Whatever season you are in right now, it is not a waiting room. It is a classroom. And the lesson God is teaching you in this season cannot be learned in the next one. So before you rush ahead, before you catalog what is missing, look around your table and say it: "Thank you."

Apply

Say it out loud – Before you go to bed tonight, name five specific things about your current season that you are grateful for. Not things you hope for. Not things you wish were different. Five things that are true right now. Say them out loud. Let gratitude recalibrate your expectations.

Pray

God, forgive me for treating this season like a waiting room instead of a classroom. I have been so focused on what is next that I have missed what you are doing right now. Teach me the secret Paul learned. Teach me contentment that is rooted in you and not in my circumstances. I do not want to look back on this season and realize I never lived it. Open my eyes to the purpose you have placed in this moment. I can do all things through you. Thank you for this season, even the parts I do not fully understand. In Jesus’ name. Amen.