If you grew up like me, you were taught to always strive to improve. No matter what—you’re not perfect, and you can always get better. Study more. Work harder. Build stronger relationships. No matter the area of life, there’s always room for growth. 

And while that mindset can be good… lately, I’ve found myself asking a hard question: 

What if God is asking me to be still instead of striving? 

Right now, I’m in a transition season. 

Because of a health journey, I lost my job. For the past several weeks, I’ve been unemployed. I’m not currently serving at church. I’m not in a small group. My days look very different than they used to—job searching, cleaning, taking care of my pets, random projects around the house… and yes, probably more TV and YouTube than I’d like to admit. 

But in the middle of all that, there’s also been quiet. 

I’ve been doing a Bible study. Taking walks. Sitting outside. Talking to God. Listening. 

At first, my instinct was: 

“What am I supposed to be learning? How am I supposed to be improving?” 

But then this verse came to mind: 

Philippians 4:12 

“I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…” 

And that stopped me. 

Because how do you balance those two things? 

Being content… while also growing? 

So I started digging. 

Looking up Bible verses within context, finding out the definitions to words. And yes—I even asked ChatGPT (I call him Chad 😂). 

The answer it gave actually stuck with me: 

It comes down to motive. 

Am I trying to improve because I feel like I’m not enough? 

Or am I growing because I already know who I am in Christ? 

Or do I feel a void and I am trying to fill it all on my own? 

That question hit deeper than I expected. 

If I’m honest, this slower season has been both peaceful… and uncomfortable. 

I love the extra time: 

• to sit with God 

• to check on people I care about 

• to breathe a little 

But I also feel the tension: 

• my savings is getting low 

• I need a job 

• I want community again 

• I feel like I’m searching… but I don’t fully know for what 

And somewhere in the middle of all that, God has been revealing things in my heart I didn’t fully see before. 

One of the hardest? 

I realized I’ve placed too much expectation on the girls who see me as a “mom.” 

I love them deeply—truly. That hasn’t changed. 

But I was trying to have them fill a space in my heart they were never meant to fill. 

I wanted to be a mom so badly that when they called me “mom,” I held onto that tighter than I should have. I over-invested. I expected more. And without realizing it, I set both them—and myself—up for hurt. 

That wasn’t fair to them. 

What I should have done was treasure the role for what it was: a gift. Not a replacement. 

I’m learning that loving them well also means having healthy boundaries. 

And that doesn’t make the love any less real. 

There are still so many things in my heart: 

I want to travel. 

I want to fall in love. 

I want a daughter—one who calls me mom in every sense of the word. 

I want to finish my master’s degree. 

I want to build a home that feels like ours. 

I want to grow this blog into something meaningful. 

And yet… here I am. 

In a quiet, in-between season. 

Not where I was. 

Not yet where I’m going. 

And honestly? 

I think this is where the tension lives: 

Being content in what is… while still holding dreams for what could be. 

Walking through cancer—even a less advanced diagnosis—has a way of pausing everything and forcing you to reevaluate. 

Your priorities shift. 

Your perspective changes. 

You start asking different questions. 

And sitting here now, I realize something: I actually am content. 

Not because everything is perfect. 

Not because this is my dream life. 

But because… it’s still good. 

And maybe growth doesn’t always look like striving. 

Maybe sometimes it looks like surrender. 

Instead of trying to fix everything and improve everything all at once, I’m learning to say: 

“God, You decide what needs to grow in me.” 

After all—He’s the one who made me. He knows the end goal. 

I don’t have this figured out. 

I still wrestle with comparison. 

I still have moments where I don’t feel content. 

I still want to grow in ways that are rooted in insecurity instead of identity. 

So this isn’t a post with answers because to be honest I don’t have any. 

Instead, it’s an invitation. 

If you’re in a season where you feel stuck… or slow… or unsure what God is doing— 

You’re not alone. 

Let’s figure out what it looks like to be content and growing… together.