Hi there,
I hope today has given you a quiet moment to take a breath.
Take a moment to breathe and become still. This week’s reflection comes from a part of my life I rarely revisit. It was a time of great need, but it’s where I began to understand something I had never grasped when life felt full.
This isn’t just about being okay with less. It’s about being content with less.
“Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth.”
1 Timothy 6:6 (NLT)
Firstly, a question to pause with:
What do you still believe will make you feel whole?
A Story That Shaped Me
There was a season when I lost everything except the clothes on my back.
I lost my job and my home, and I had no family around me. I was living in my car—cold nights, dark streets, a sleeping bag in the back, and a box beside me with what was left of my life.
It was humbling. I didn’t know how to move forward.
As I sat on a park bench, I watched people go about their lives. Some wandered through shops with family or friends. Others rushed by during their lunch break. Their days looked steady, shaped by familiar routines. Their voices carried warmth and care. I was exhausted just trying to make it through each day. Surviving for the necessities took everything I had.
I thought I trusted God. But trust feels different when there’s nothing left to cling to.
If you open Philippians 4 in your Bible or press the link and take a moment to read, this chapter became something I clung to. Paul said he learned how to be content with whatever he had. I had read that verse many times before, but this was the first time I needed it.
There was a time in my life when I knew what contentment meant. But this season was different. I began to understand what it meant to be content in a state of need. So I started asking God for something deeper than comfort. I asked God to help me stop wanting, and to open my eyes to what was still with me.
Contentment was difficult to accept all at once; it came in layers, like peeling back an onion. God’s voice was a gentle whisper amongst the noise in my mind. Through the whisper of His voice, scripture, and the cold nights, all I could do was cry in His presence.
As I woke up cold, drained, and hungry the next morning, I knew God was still with me. He hadn’t left me in my despair. In that moment, God showed me that He wasn’t measuring my worth by what I had lost. He was forming something deeper than I could see.
A Few Things to Explore
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From the archives: When truth costs everything |
Here is a song to reflect on: I shall not want by Audrey Assad. |
A Thought to Carry
You don’t have to understand the season you’re in for God to be at work in it. He’s present even on days that feel unanswered.
Lord, when everything feels lost and I can’t see a way forward, remind me that You’re still here. In the noise, the ache, and the unanswered days, show me that You haven’t let go. Teach me to trust You when I have nothing left to hold. Amen.
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