Contentment: Both/And

Lately I've been thinking more and more about the story throughout the Bible. Creation. Fall. Redemption. Restoration. In circumstances that have not gone as planned, I notice myself thinking "this is not how it's supposed to be." I toggle between what God's creation intention was and the reality of the fallen world. Even in the little things that I myself struggle with, I just can't help thinking, "this is not how it's supposed to be." Had I written this post two years ago, I would not have been able to fully articulate the both/and that is existing. This existence is something that comes up often in my private practice. It is also something that comes up often in community. There is the ideal and there is the reality. God's intention and creation are the ideal. And good can still exist in the reality. Even when reality does not match ideal. Take, for instance hopes and dreams. Those coming to fruition would be the ideal, right? The efforts that have been made to prepare our hearts, minds, and lives for the future we hoped for. That's the ideal. It's also ideal to hope for the things that are aligned with God's design. Many people have recently been preaching this: young people get married, have babies, and live a life that reflects God's design. And recently I have had the conversation with others about: what would you tell your younger self about this? I'd likely say that I wish I had someone cheering me on to find someone to spend my life with, instead of focusing so much on career and degrees. I wish that I had listened to my gut back then when I wondered why can't it be both—someone to join me on the journey of career and degrees and relationship. I was often hit with, "it can come later," "you'll have time," "I'll tell you when you're older." Perhaps there is some truth in those responses. There are seasons for different things, and our lives rarely unfold in the exact order we imagine. But I think what I was missing was the permission to want both. To believe that a relationship and a career were not competing priorities. That pursuing one did not mean I had to put the other on hold. That wanting marriage and family did not mean I lacked ambition, and that wanting an education and meaningful work did not mean I was any less interested in building a life with someone.

And yet, here I am. I can look back and wish some things had been different without believing that my life has been wasted. I can grieve what I thought my life would look like by now without dismissing the good that exists in the life I actually have. I can be grateful for the opportunities I've had, the experiences that have shaped me, and the ways God has provided for me, while also acknowledging that there are things missing.

This is where the both/and becomes important.

I can love my life and still long for something more. I can be grateful for God's blessings and still acknowledge an unmet desire. I can recognize that I am living a life that someone else might pray for and still recognize that my own prayers have not all been answered. These truths do not negate one another.

Sometimes I think we confuse contentment with acceptance of our circumstances. We assume that if we are truly grateful, we should be satisfied with what we have. If we trust God, we should not struggle with the things we do not have. If we believe He is good, we should be able to reconcile every disappointment with that goodness.

And I wonder if contentment can coexist with longing. If gratitude can coexist with grief. If faith can coexist with the honest acknowledgment that something is not as it should be.

After all, the story of Scripture does not end with the Fall. We live in the tension between what was intended and what is, between the brokenness we experience and the restoration we hope for. Redemption is already at work, but restoration is not yet complete. There is goodness here, even as we wait for things to be made right. Maybe that is why I keep returning to the thought, “this is not how it's supposed to be.” Not because I cannot appreciate what is, but because I can recognize that what is and what was intended are not always the same.

And maybe the invitation is not to stop noticing the difference. Maybe it is to learn how to live faithfully in the tension. To celebrate what is good without pretending that everything is good. To grieve what is missing without overlooking what is present. To keep hoping without making our happiness dependent on getting everything we hoped for. And to trust that the God who created, redeems, and restores is not finished with the story.

I don't know exactly what restoration will look like in every area of my life. I don't know how every hope will unfold, or whether some of the things I have longed for will look the way I once imagined them. But I am learning that I do not have to choose between gratitude for the life I have and hope for the life I still desire.

Both can be true. And perhaps learning to hold both is part of what it means to live in the space between redemption and restoration.

Scripture:

Ecclesiastes 3:1 (ESV) “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”

Romans 8:18-25 (ESV) For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Reflection: Is there something about your current life that is both/and? How have you coped with it in the past and how can you cope with it now? How does knowing that God is with you in each season change how you approach contentment and hopes for the future? What would your future self want to remember about this season of life?

Prayer:

Father God, You are the creator of the universe and all that is in it. Thank you for the life that You have given me and the desires that You continue to set upon my heart. May I explore this season with Your love and protection in mind, as I navigate the ups and downs. Guide me in the navigation of what is and what is still to come. Teach me to live faithfully in the present without losing hope for the future. Where I need to grieve, give me permission to grieve. Where I need to wait, give me patience. Where I need to take a step forward, give me wisdom and courage. And when I cannot understand how my circumstances fit into Your greater story, remind me that You are not finished restoring what has been broken. Thank You that I do not have to choose between gratitude for what I have and hope for what I still desire. Help me to hold both with open hands, trusting in Your goodness and resting in the assurance that I am loved by You. In Your Son's name, Amen.