All too often, I allow my circumstances to dictate my happiness. My joy is found in people and in the chaos of productivity. In the times that are lonely and filled with mindless activity, I find myself in a darker place; a place that leaves me down and frustrated.

I know that’s the kind of place I’m going home to and I can honestly say I don’t want to leave.

I’m tired and burnt out. I’m spiritually drained and I’ve hit the point that my body is telling me I need to slow down. My mind can’t take it though. I look forward to days off here, but when I’m not sleeping, I find myself ready to jump back into hustle and bustle of camp life. I miss the excitement that comes with 500 energetic students swarming every inch of Shalimar and I miss the feeling of purpose that comes from pouring out every ounce of my energy into something with eternal value. On those days off, my only consolation has been the realization that in a few short days, camp will begin again.

But when this Saturday rolls around and the last church bus pulls out of the parking lot, that will no longer be the case. Instead, I’ll be looking ahead to Lexington and everything that comes with it.

I’m going back to a school I don’t want to be at, pursuing a degree I don’t really want. Though I love Ellen like crazy, babysitting just isn’t fulfilling in the way ministry has been. I’m involved in a million different things with meetings nearly every night of the week, and at the end of the day, I’m just worn out. I don’t want to go back to this kind of life. I feel restless and its absolutely miserable. I’m ready to be content.

I absolutely love the book of Philippians, and my quiet time took me there last week. This book is often credited with being the most joyful letters written by the apostle Paul, and the feeling is contagious. As I made my way through the end of this familiar scripture, I decided to read the Message version as well. It was then that Father knocked me over the head with these words:

Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.

-Philippians 4:11-13, MSG

Did you catch that last part? When I first read this passage from the Message, I didn’t realize I was looking at one of the most quoted verses in all of scripture. Sometimes I think Christians tend to skim over these “cliche” verses, assuming that they have already withdrawn every last ounce of truth from them. I for one am certainly guilty of this.

I had always viewed Phil. 4:13 as a promise that the Lord would give us the strength necessary to accomplish anything he sets before us. This is a concept I teach my kids regularly on the Rec field, and I truth I believe with all my heart. But when I read the passage this way, I see the words to be more of a challenge than a promise. Its a call to face every season of life with the calm assurance that the Lord is there.

Whatever I have. Wherever I am. 

To me, the most beautiful thing about Paul’s letter to the Philippians is that it was written from prison. His most upbeat contribution to the Bible was the product of dismal circumstances. But did Paul allow it to let him feel useless?

Obviously not. Instead, he talks of how others are coming to know the Lord because of his imprisonment. Though I’m sure he would have rather been free to go on preaching the gospel, he found joy and purpose behind bars. This means I don’t get to be frustrated that my life seems mundane or unproductive. After all, its not like Father is surprised I’m here. And while I would much rather be a thousand other places, I am absolutely certain that the Lord is using this time in my life to teach me to be content where I am. My prayer over the last few weeks has been that I would come to know what it really means for God to be my only desire. Its going to be a difficult lesson, but those are always the best kind in the end.

Tonight, I’m reminded of a worship song which simply declares, “I’m somewhere between contented peace and always wanting more.” Its time to rest in my Father’s arms, trusting that where he’s placed me is all part of the plan. Its time to stop striving and be at peace. Right now, I guess I’m caught in the middle.