I braced my laptop under my arm and strapped a motorcycle helmet two sizes too small on my head. Squeezing between the baggage stacked up to my head and the large driver taking up the seat in front of me, we took off on the small motorcycle—a tiny speck zipping across the vast African landscape.
How did I ever get to such a place as this? I wondered as the dusty, hot wind pelted my face. We had 100 miles of desert to cross, and I couldn’t budge an inch.
Some people think contentment means having a nice truck or air-conditioned house or Starbucks coffee every day or even a hot shower.
Perhaps you have all these things, and yet you are not content. Maybe you wonder how anyone can be content, whether they’re in the deserts of Africa or in the prairies of America.
Being content has everything to do with where we live—not geographically, but spiritually.
It’s easy to get caught up in the storms of life. Our daily routines fill every minute of every day until we wonder how things ever got this crazy. Kids scream in our ears amid the stress of our jobs and the confusion of politics, schedules, and school. Life can feel like an unrelenting deluge.
But every storm has its eye—a place of calm and tranquility. No matter how stormy life may be, we can experience contentment if we choose to trust God for peace and safety.
The Apostle Paul experienced some of the worst storms of life. Yet he wrote that he had learned the secret of contentment in all circumstances (Philippians 4:11–12).
He had been beaten and abused, shipwrecked, stoned, left for dead, hungry, and poor. Still, he discovered how to be content in every situation. He found it in the strength of Jesus Christ (Philippians 4:13).
Hard times will come, and we may struggle against the headwind at times. But God invites us to step out of the storm itself and find contentment in His unshakable peace.
After three hours of riding on the back of that motorcycle, with my head aching and my legs cramping, I realized that this was exactly where God wanted me to be—here in one of the hardest-to-reach places in the world, where so few are sharing the Gospel.
The closest Starbucks may have been a continent away. But I felt content, even though it meant peeling myself off the motorcycle and barely being able to stand.
I was the eye of the storm, with Jesus anchoring me in His peace and strength and hope.
**This account comes from a long-term worker. Names and places have been changed for security.**
Main photo by Anson Antony
Original article: https://www.frontiersusa.org/blog/article/eye-of-the-storm