Finding Contentment in Unmet Expectations

“Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m living the dream, but some days are exhausting,” I listened as a dear friend vented to me during a recent phone conversation. Her two children were crying in the background, and I could tell the end of the call was coming soon. 

Inwardly, I replied, “Yeah, you’re living my dream.” She is married; I am not. She has two adorable children; I have a dog. Into the phone, I offered some feeble attempts at encouragement while, if I’m honest, not feeling entirely empathetic. As I expected, she said she needed to go “take care of things,” and I was left to deal with the swirl of discontented emotions that had risen in my heart. 

At 27 years old, my life looks different than I had imagined. I planned to go to college, get married, have kids, live in a city with a thriving community of friends, and live happily ever after. While I still hope and pray to have those things, most have not happened for me yet. On my worst days, I can easily find myself explaining to God that my plan is better and He needs to get on board with it because living alone in a small town in rural Indiana is not what I expected. 

About a year ago, I read a biography of Elisabeth Elliot, a famous missionary wife and critically acclaimed writer and speaker. Her biography, “Becoming Elisabeth Elliot,” is one of the most impactful books I’ve read in a long time. Elisabeth’s life epitomizes the sentiment, “This is not what I expected for my life.”

Following God’s call to take the gospel to unreached people groups, Elisabeth and her husband Jim journeyed to Ecuador to minister to the infamous Waodani tribe. The Waodani were known for tribal killing sprees, hunting down their victims with spears in their hands and rage in their hearts. Despite the danger, Jim, Elisabeth, and their team knew these people desperately needed to hear about God’s love for them. But before Jim and the other missionary men could speak a single word about Christ, they were ambushed and violently speared to death by the native warriors. The missionary wives, now widows, were left to carry on the gospel work without them.

Yet, even in this time of enormous loss and despair, Elisabeth filled her journals not with anger and doubt but with prayers and praises to God. She did not expect God to take her husband from her so quickly. She did not foresee that she would someday be living in the jungle, surrounded by a tribe of killers, raising a young daughter without the help of her husband. These were not her plans or dreams. Yet, she trusted God and His good plan for her life.

Despite the horrors she faced, she had somehow learned the art of contentment. 

This seemingly elusive quality may be challenging to define, but I came across a definition of contentment that I found especially helpful. “Contentment is the inward, quiet spirit that joyfully submits to God’s providence.” Joyful submission–that’s a thing? It can and should be in the life of a Christian. 

Apostle Paul writes in Philippians 4: 11-13: “Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. 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. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” 

Though often taken out of context, that last verse is the key to contentment. “I can do all things…” is not merely a pep talk to encourage yourself to chase your dreams or do hard things. This verse tells us how to be content in the hardships of life–through Christ, Who is our strength. When we rely on Him, He gives us the ability to submit to His will with joy, trusting in the God whose character we have come to know. Through daily abiding with God, our trust in Him deepens. We more readily pray, “Your will be done.” 

I wish I could tell you I have completely learned this “secret” that Paul reveals to us in Philippians, but contentment is still a daily battle for me. I imagine I am not alone in my struggle. My prayer is that, when frustrations over unmet expectations and unfulfilled dreams arise, we would learn to pray as Apostle Paul did, as Elisabeth Elliot did:

“I realized that the deepest spiritual lessons are not learned by His letting us have our way in the end, but by His making us wait, bearing with us in love and patience until we are able to honestly pray what He taught His disciples to pray: Thy will be done.”