This post is from Moms Take Ten episode 189, Parenting in Scripture–Contentment When Motherhood Is Hard, which you can listen to wherever you listen to podcasts or at https://sites.libsyn.com/403493/parenting-in-scripture-contentment-when-motherhood-is-hard
I am a terrible patient.
I hurt my back in September—a herniated disc—and it caused weakness and numbness in one of my legs. Lying in the hospital bed, I started to get antsy, so I sat up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed. Immediately, lights started flashing, an alarm sounded, and an automated voice repeated over and over, “Do not get out of bed. Please wait for assistance,” until a nurse came rushing in. I was on fall alert because of my leg, so I wasn’t allowed out of bed without permission, and apparently that included having my legs dangle over the side. I had to laugh a little because, knowing myself, I would have tried to go to the bathroom without telling someone at least once.
Now, I’m at home recovering from surgery. And once again, I find myself frustrated with the restrictions placed on me. No bending, twisting, or lifting allowed. No sitting at 90 degrees for more than 20 minutes at a time, and no more than 2–3 times a day. I basically can’t do anything! I stare at the sock on the floor and will it to move to the laundry basket, which it doesn’t. I have a fancy claw thing that I’ve been using, but when clothes are wet in the washer, it is highly ineffective. Cleaning, cooking, driving—all the tasks that are typically on my to-do list—are off-limits. But sometimes, that annoys me so much that I just do it and hope my husband doesn’t catch me…but he does. Every time. Bless that man.
That also means that the way I parent is different. We had an e-learning day because of elections last week. I got the kids set up on their computers and climbed back into bed, wishing their teachers well. Lord knows what happened during those hours because I was asleep. One of my kids has had some pretty hard moments. I’m used to entering in and physically helping him through them. Now, I position myself as safely as I can while hoping he calms sooner rather than later. I send them off to school and hope they make the bus. I give them an instruction and hope it gets done. I offer comfort but can’t scoop them up the way I usually do. I feel a little sidelined. And I was not made for the sidelines.
I don’t like limits. I don’t like being told what I can and cannot do. I don’t like when things don’t go the way I planned or when I can’t fix what is happening around me.
And I struggle with contentment.
But this isn’t just a struggle during bouts of illness and injury. It’s something I wrestle with all the time. Especially in parenting. Because if there’s one thing parenting teaches us, it’s that there is an awful lot we cannot control.
And I don’t think I’m alone. I’m guessing there are things you struggle to be content with also, and limits you aren’t a big fan of.
Parenting is filled with situations, circumstances, emotions, behaviors, and limits that we can be quite discontent with. The loudness of our house. The messiness of it. The sibling conflict. The meltdowns and rages. The arguing and refusals. The constant talk about butts. The limited support from school or the difficulty accessing services our children need. The things our kids come home knowing that they certainly didn’t learn from us.
And then there’s our own behavior. Our limited patience. The times we yell instead of choosing gentleness. All the ways we fall short of being the parents we hope to be.
The apostle Paul has a word for us about this. As he is wrapping up his letter to the Philippians, he begins to express his gratitude for how they have supported him over the years and then he can’t help but give a little teaching in the middle. “I don’t say this out of need,” he clarifies, “for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need.” (Phil 4:11-12)
As I read this today, I thought about what an incredible statement it is. “Whatever circumstances.” How can he say that? He can’t really mean it, right? Except that for those of us who have read Paul’s letters and studied about his life, we know that he does mean it. And he proved it time and again. One example that comes to mind is when he was in prison, along with Silas. After having been severely flogged, they were thrown into the dungeon and their feet placed into stocks. What pain they must have been in! Yet, what did they do? I would have cried and despaired, cursed those who did it to me and railed a bit at God for allowing it to happen. Paul and Silas chose, instead, to pray and sing. (Acts 16:25)
Now, I don’t think Paul was delighted to be sitting in prison with a battered body and his feet in stocks. I don’t think he was celebrating the circumstances themselves. But he knew something that allowed him to worship even there. His circumstances didn’t determine whether God was good, whether God was present, or whether God would sustain him. That is just who God is, always.
One article I read in Psychology Today described contentment as “active acceptance—the ability to recognize sufficiency in the present moment.”[1] The world would tell us that the sufficiency is within ourselves. But we know better. “I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me,” Paul declares. The sufficiency in the present moment is founded in Christ. It is in his strength, his peace, and the certainty that he has the situation in hand. Because he is sustaining us and helping us, we can be content.
And as I think about what this looks like in parenting, I’m reminded of another word we use often here on Moms Take Ten and in parent coaching—regulation.
I think contentment and regulation have a lot in common. When we’re discontent, when we’re constantly wishing things were different or fighting against the circumstances we’re in, it can add to the stress and frustration we’re already experiencing.
But when we can acknowledge what is happening, accept what we cannot control, and trust that God is with us in the midst of it, we create a little more space to respond rather than react.
Contentment doesn’t guarantee that we’ll stay regulated, but I do think it can help us move toward greater peace, even in difficult parenting moments.
Note what this is not saying. It is not saying “I love the fact that my kids are fighting!” or “Gosh, the messiness of this house is my favorite.” That is not what contentment is. Contentment is believing that regardless of what is happening, we will be okay because God is sufficient for us in that moment. As Paul says a few verses later, God will supply all of our needs according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:19)
We don’t have to panic at the situation in front of us. We can breathe and know that we will make it through. We don’t have to spend our days wishing we were somewhere else, with different circumstances or easier children. We can learn to be present with the kids God has given us, knowing that God is with us too. We can release our judgements about our kids or ourselves or our house or all the things that we would change and accept where we are right now, meeting those needs and celebrating what is good in it. And we can be intentional in our responses because we are grounded in grace-filled truth rather than reacting to the worry and the fear and the frustration that so often accompany our discontentment.
So, if I were to paraphrase Paul’s teaching and make it specific to parenting, I would say something like this:
For I have learned to be content in whatever parenting circumstances I find myself. I know how to make do with little quiet, and I know how to make do with a lot of big behaviors. In any and all circumstances, I have learned the secret of being content—whether the house is peaceful or filled with tantrums, whether the siblings are getting along or constantly arguing, whether I know how to respond or feel a bit at a loss, whether I have patience to spare or am hanging on by a thread. I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me.
Now, I wish I could tell you that I’ve mastered this. That I can look at the sock on the floor and simply smile, knowing that God is sufficient. But more often than not, I’m still annoyed that I can’t pick it up.
And maybe that’s part of why Paul says he has learned to be content. It’s not something that comes naturally. It’s something we grow in as we learn to trust the Lord, again and again, in circumstances big and small.
So here’s my encouragement to you today, and to myself. The next time you find yourself frustrated by your circumstances, wishing things were different, or struggling against a limit you cannot change, pause and ask yourself: Can I trust God to be sufficient for me, right here, right now?
Not when the house is quiet. Not when the kids are getting along. Not when everything is finally going the way we hoped.
Right here. Right now.
Because Christ is sufficient, even here.
[1] Vo, Duyen, and Kelly-Ann Allen. 2025. “A Different Kind of Happiness: The Quiet Power of Contentment.” Psychology Today. November 20, 2025. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/sense-of-belonging/202511/a-different-kind-of-happiness-the-quiet-power-of-contentment.
