This morning I sat in my car for an extra 10 minutes. I felt myself mentally and physically struggling to get myself up and out to start my work day.
As I sat in silence, I knew this feeling was different and honestly, I felt sad feeling it. I’ve always loved my job. I still really like it but as I’ve shared, they’ve made some changes that have left me feeling uncertain about my future here.
I’m so thankful for the last 6 years I’ve spent here and I’m overall happy with the work I do, but this morning I couldn’t help be feel an overwhelming sense of discontentment. I’ve always known I was made for more but comfortability has a weird way of masking the possibilities. When everything seems ok, it’s hard to imagine it any other way.
When I finally got myself up and out of the car I felt a little God whisper ‘sometimes the best kind of change is birthed from a deep sense of dissatisfaction in what you’ve been doing’
That feeling of ‘this can’t be it’ that overwhelms you in the worst (yet simultaneously) the best way possible, THAT is the feeling that will be your catalyst for change.
I’ve never made significant changes from a place of comfort. It’s in the discomfort and the dissatisfaction that I’ve found the fuel, strength AND motivation to change.
As I walked into work, I felt as though God was reminding me of earlier this year. Many people don’t know this, but months before Reuben and I decided to leave our last home, just after 10:30p one Monday evening we were in bed when Reuben woke to the sound of glass breaking and I woke to the sound of his gun loading. Everything happened extremely fast and I, half asleep, thought maybe he heard one of the kids fall out of bed and was overreacting. As I checked our babies, Reuben scoured the house as he believed someone was in our home. After deeming ‘the coast clear’ we realized two large cinder blocks had been thrown through our front window into the living room we laid in minutes before.
This was honestly the worst night of my life. My oldest daughter woke up to the commotion, the police were called and cameras showed two men, walk up to my home, throw these rocks and run down the street only to continue vandalizing other properties.
That day, Reuben and I knew it would never be the same. Our home, our sanctuary, our safe space, had been violated and it was hard to unsee what we had seen. We weren’t sure what to do but after much prayer, we decided- we’re not leaving. Not now, not until God says it’s time. We will not make decisions through the lens of fear. So, we stayed. Uncomfortable, discontented but, we stayed.
I believe with all my heart though that moment, that push out of our comfort zone was the moment I really opened my eyes and heart to see what could be on the other side of our comfort zone. I needed that. Familiarity can be deceiving. It can make you believe that all you know is all that can ever be. That’s where my head was at for a while. I didn’t, I couldn’t, believe there could be more then what I knew there. Reuben had said for sometime that we should move but I just couldn’t get on board, until then. Not out of fear, but out of the discomfort I now felt.
Months later, what felt like out of the blue, Reuben found our new house. He loved it since the first time it was on the market (it actually went off, under contract but then fell through and came back on for us) and guess what- right outside of our comfort zone, on the other side of everything familiar, we found a new thing. A beautiful thing. Our thing. I know that if it wasn’t for the uncomfortable situation months before, I likely would not have moved forward with this. I would have thought of all the reasons why we didn’t need to leave, why this house was good enough, why it was financially and physically comfortable. I would have stayed complacent which is often confused with comfort.
So as I walked to my desk today I decided not to wish away this feeling. Not to despise it or hope it would go away. There’s a reason for my discontentment.
I decided in this moment to embrace it. To lean into it. I realized that my discontentment is a gift. I began to reflect on all the times this has been true and I’ve realized that God works through the hard things, through the unexpected things, through the things we never wanted to happen.
Don’t get me wrong, be grateful for where you are. But gratitude is an attitude not a place. You can be grateful anywhere. Moving on literally or emotionally doesn’t mean you aren’t grateful, it means you’re growing.
Just because you’ve been doing something for a long time, just because it feels comfortable and familiar, doesn’t mean it’s meant to be forever. Allow yourself the grace to feel that.
I’ve been stuck in the familiar many times and I have learned that just because it’s always been this way, does not mean it should always be this way. Be brave enough to break cycles, end relationships, change your circumstances and start over.
Do not let familiarity bread contempt in your soul and rob you of your future. If you feel like there’s more, there probably is.
Ask the Lord and wait on His direction. Then, go for it. Without resistance or remorse. Walk into what God is doing. God is good, His plans are good and that still small voice that says ‘there’s more’ is Him calling you to greener pastures and deeper water. Go with it.
One thought on “THE GIFT OF DISCONTENTMENT”
So well said my friend. So well said