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I have three young adult children. We have had many conversations over the course of their lives, but as of late, there is one conversation we seem to return to often, and it is that of contentment. They are at that pivotal stage of life where they are always looking ahead at what comes next.
What classes will I be taking next semester?
Who is going to be my roommate/flatmate?
Where am I going to live?
Is this the right career path for me?
Will this job offer pay me enough to live?
Who am I going to marry?
When will we start a family?
The questions are endless, and always looking ahead toward the next thing.
Perhaps because the university years are short and are an understood transitory season of life, it is difficult to be fully present in the right now. There is always a next semester, a next year, and a next in life they are aspiring to. But I often walk away from the “what’s next” conversations, deeply desiring that they will find joy here.
Because every age and stage has the potential to give us something wonderful and precious if we are willing to be where our feet are.
It all comes down to contentment.
Several months ago, I was out on my morning run. My mind was filled with distractions and, full disclosure, I was trying to run out my frustrations over a situation I was dealing with. I found myself spending copious amounts of my attention and focus on things that were “later” issues. With my mind in a funk, I heard the voice of the coach on my running app in my ear. The voice was telling me to be present in the run; that all the things going on in life will try to steal focus and hinder performance. My coach was calling me back to the run and coaching me to be present in my run.
For the few years that I’ve been consistently running, my initial belief about the sport was that it was my chance to either run away from my problems for a few miles or it was an opportunity to run toward my problems and run them to the ground. But my approach to running changed when my coach encouraged me to be present in my run.
Being here, being fully in this moment, whether in running or in life, has shifted my perspective on so many things. Being in the moment, appreciating what that moment can be for me, and accepting the presence of now brings enormous peace and contentment. I am learning daily how to be where my feet are.
Paul refers to this kind of contentment in his letter to the Philippians. He says in chapter four, verse twelve, “I have learned the secret to being content in any and every situation” (NIV). In this context, Paul expressed his gratitude for the gifts the Philippians had sent him. He was further expressing that the mystery of contentment had been revealed to him; that in all circumstances, he knew and understood true peace of mind and heart. Earlier in the chapter, he was exhorting the readers of this letter to rejoice in all things. To come to God with thanksgiving and present their requests, and to keep their minds and hearts on the things of God.
When Paul wrote about the secret to being content in verse twelve, he was drawing from a very pagan idea that there were secrets and mysteries in the spirit world that only a few chosen could unlock. The Greek word for the phrase, “learned the secret,” means “to initiate.” He intentionally used this specific word because of its cultural implications, but in this context, he was directing the reader to the sufficiency of Christ.
Strong’s concordance provides a very clear understanding of this “initiation.” It explains that the secret revealed to Paul is a secret that is “simultaneously open to every believer: the sufficiency of Christ.” This access to contentment was available to all believers. There was no hierarchy. The Gospel was available to all.[1]
Paul had learned through hardship and persecution, through times of plenty and times of want, through the good and the bad, how to be where his feet were. He wasn’t pining for the next thing. He was settled in the here and now. He knew that knowing Christ and having Christ were sufficient for him.
From offering up thanksgiving, to rejoicing in all things, to dwelling upon the nature and characteristics of God, to discovering true soul contentment, Paul’s words from the beginning to the end of chapter four were reminding the Philippians of where true peace abides.
Embracing this mystery of contentment today may look like fully living in the moment, feet planted in the soil of the place we inhabit, whether good or bad, and trusting that God is present and sufficient. In our time of need or our time of plenty, God is here with us.
Proverbs tells us that the prudent look ahead and plan accordingly, while fools just keep moving along in the wrong direction (Proverbs 22:3). I am not advocating for foolishness, by any means. But I do believe we lose track of God’s presence in our in-this-very-moment lives when our gaze is constantly fixed on the next thing. God is present today. God will be with us tomorrow. But God only asks us to focus on right here, right now.
We gain nothing from worrying (Matthew 6:25-34). Anxiety weighs the heart down (Proverbs 12:25), and we are commanded to relinquish anxiety and trust in God (I Peter 5:7). James reminds us that we have no idea what tomorrow holds. Life is a mist, a vapor, quickly vanishing (James 4:14).
These scriptures are not meant to promote irresponsibility, but to serve as reminders that God has given us today. God has brought us here—to this place, this job, this home, this ministry. And while life is full of never-ending challenges and transitions, we can settle in and breathe contentment into our lungs and let our feet sink deep into the soil beneath our feet. Today, here is where we are meant to be.
Every season and every circumstance lends itself to us as an opportunity. We can lean in closer to our Heavenly Father, or we can do what I am often tempted to do, run away from or run toward in an effort to run down whatever life has handed me. But this beautiful image of feet planted in the place God has brought us to brings me a supernatural appreciation of the sufficiency of Christ. When the days are good, God is faithful. When the days are difficult, God is faithful. When here feels warm and fuzzy, God is good. When here feels like a prickly porcupine, God is still good. And until the next thing comes, I desire to be where my feet are.
Here is good.
Here is pleasant.
Here sometimes has its challenges.
But God is here, and so I choose to remain here until he moves me on.
And this is not simply about place. This is more importantly about heart. Where is your heart today? Is it pining for the next? Is it looking beyond what you have in your hands for something that promises greater satisfaction? Is it disrupted with restlessness and envy?
Are you feeling fear and anxiety about what’s next? Has your focus drifted from the path of today, longing for the path of tomorrow?
Paul’s secret to contentment is really no mystery at all. It is free to anyone who chooses to seek after God. Christ is all we need. And Christ is enough.
Wherever your foot falls today, may you be present in each moment. May your heart once again find joy in being here.
[1] “Strong’s Greek: 3453. μυέω (Mueó) — to Initiate, to Instruct, to Learn the Secret.” Biblehub.com, 2025, biblehub.com/greek/3453.htm.
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