I used to think contentment would come once things were more settled—when we owned a home, when our future plans were certain, when we had more children, when I’d receive that final diagnosis and begin healing instead of masking symptoms, when relationships were repaired, when the waiting season was behind us and we were standing on the other side of answered prayers.
More and more, I’ve come to know that walking with the Lord often means learning to trust Him while living in the middle—not quite where we were, but not yet where we hope to be. It’s in the not-yet, and the already-but-still-becoming.
Paul says in Philippians 4:11–13, “11 Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content. 12 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. 13 I can do all things through him who strengthens me.“
Paul’s words remind us that contentment isn’t a switch we flip. It’s a slow, quiet formation of the heart overtime. It’s found not in perfect circumstances, but in a settled and complete trust that God is enough, even here. It looks like choosing gratitude when the day feels unremarkable. It looks like faithfulness in small things, peace that isn’t tied to progress, and joy that isn’t waiting on a better version of life to begin.
But how do we come to have a heart like that?
It begins in communion. In turning our eyes away from what we lack, and lifting them toward the One who never changes. Jesus tells us in Matthew 7:7-8,
7 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” – Matthew 7:6-8
A content heart isn’t something we muster up on our own—it’s formed as we seek Him in prayer, pour out our longings honestly, and let His Word reframe our vision. Slowly, steadily, our desires begin to shift. Our hope becomes anchored in who He is, not just what He can do.
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” – Psalm 37:4
Delighting in Him is not a promise that every earthly wish will be fulfilled. It’s a promise that when we draw near, He reshapes our hearts to desire what is truly good. And often, it’s in that quiet nearness that we realize He is the desire of our hearts.
Here are a few rhythms and reminders that have anchored my heart in the midst of temporary things:
Savor what has already been given
Light the candle in your rental kitchen. Pick wildflowers for the table. Give thanks for the roof over your head, whether leased or owned. Beauty isn’t reserved for the permanent.
Hold earthly things loosely
Our true belonging is elsewhere. Even as we build homes, raise families, and plant gardens here, we do so with eyes fixed on a greater hope that is eternal.
Practice stillness and stewardship
Don’t wait to steward well. Create order, nurture joy, and invite others in, even if your space or season feels “less than.” God meets us in our humble offerings.
Hide His Word in your heart
When the ache of longing rises, answer it with truth. Preach the gospel to yourself. Post them around your house and look at them often as reminders.
Look for the fruit of this season
The waiting place is not wasted. It’s where roots grow deep. It’s where trust is refined. It’s where He whispers things we’d miss in a rush toward “someday.” Spend time reflecting on the season He has you in and make a habit of proclaiming what He has blessed you with each day.
Friend, if you’re in a temporary season—renting, waiting, hoping, praying—may you know that it isn’t lesser. It’s holy ground, too. Jesus displayed a perfect example for us to quietly trust, walk in obedience, and always look to the Father.
“27 Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 28 But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!” -Luke 12:27-28
Let your heart be encouraged, you are not behind. You are not forgotten. This season may feel small, perhaps even insignificant, but it’s full of eternal significance.
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