Passionate Contentment

Passion and Contentment. The wise Polly Wilson, with whom I’ve gotten to spend the last couple of years in Life Group studying Scripture together, put those two words in tension with each other last week. She stated that as her contentment in the Lord has grown, she’s seen her passion diminish. And I haven’t been able to shake that idea.

The passion of being a young believer was so all consuming. I remember it, and in reflecting on it, instantly I could picture almost all of our students. The dreams that they’re holding are glorious, and I count it a privilege to get to fan those flames as I pray with them and seek God’s guidance for how to make their passions a reality. They want to be forces for good, to bring justice to a hurting world, to advocate for the marginalized. Isn’t that beautiful? In matters of faith, I regularly find myself asking the Lord that he would move them out of apathy and give them an even deeper passion for Jesus that will mark the rest of their lives. 

But just as equally, I pray for contentment. I desire for their work to be so meaningful it leaves them with a sense of purpose and accomplishment, for who wants to feel that their efforts were a waste of time? I ask that in the end, Jesus would be the only thing that actually satisfies at a deeper level, and that they would cling to him so tightly so that their need of him is normalized, their joy in him automatic, their contentment through him guaranteed. 

So back to Polly’s statement - does growth of the latter shrink the former? If I’m honest, I think contentment over passion describes my life. As I have walked this faith road with my Savior, I’ve become more confident in my identity of being his wanted daughter, more comfortable in my relationship that looks like a never-ending conversation, more content with whatever comes my way. And I don’t think I’m being hyperbolic; I really think it’s true. But the 15-year-old Katrina whose new-found passion had caused her to share Jesus with her classmates and led her to dream of reaching kids around the world with the gospel, she might be surprised at the ease with which I now accept what is over what could be. Is this the road of every adult? Of every believer? Is the phenomenon I’m trying to put my finger on just one of shifting emotions, a change of feelings that is neither good or bad? I’m still not sure, but as I’ve been reflecting on this tension for the past week, I want to begin praying for both: that I would put even deeper roots into Jesus, my ultimate contentment, and that he would fan passionate flames in me for gospel change.

No passion like a nerf battle with 8-10 year-olds!

Witness of Fun

I wasn’t part of the crazy fray, but I stood above it. Literally. I was in the balcony overlooking the chaos happening in the gym below me as small group after small group entered in their costumes. One group wore black-and-white striped shirts and white make-up, and they weren’t saying a word; rather they were running around and miming boxes around people. A freshman boys group was dressed in red hazmat suits, while a junior group was in Rambo gear chasing their two leaders in T-rex costumes. An adorable girl group was dressed in every emotion from the movie Inside out 2, a boy group as Minions, and a third was trying to represent the Louvre heist with their orange work vests, ski masks, and valuable items sticking out of pockets. The whole scene was an absolute hoot.

But what made me laugh almost more was glancing to my right and my left and seeing members from the other groups at the camp for the weekend, one Swiss and one German. Their faces bore equal amounts of amusement and confusion as they’d look at one another and shake their heads. Finally I wandered over to two chaperones and made some comment along the lines of “Crazy, huh?” The moment they recognized that I spoke their language, they pounced with questions. “What is happening? Who are you guys? What kind of kids are these?”

I sought to answer their questions, searching for the words to explain that our school is made up of kids from all over the world because their parents work in places where the name of Jesus is not yet known as it ought to be. Trying to convey that we were here to have fun but also take a moment to assess our own heart postures toward Jesus. Agreeing that what they were witnessing was “not normal” but also a sign of how comfortable our students were with each other and that we were a bit like family. This was underscored by the senior boys group who chose that moment to whip off their boring hoodies and reveal pink tutus underneath before their leader did a swan dive into waiting arms. The German chaperones shook their heads in disbelief. “This would never happen in our school!” they exclaimed. Fun and laughter were being used as a witness to the power of the gospel in that moment.

It gave me a renewed appreciation for the uniqueness of both our students and our small group leaders. The way they took delight in one another lightened my soul and spoke volumes to my heart about all the work leading up to High School Retreat being worth it. And it spoke to these onlookers about the freedom that comes in unity and sometimes chaos. If even one student felt wanted and loved by their small group and their Maker because of this evening, then I would do it all over again. And let’s be honest: I probably will.

Mega Relay 2026

The real reason we put on HS Retreat.

Chaplains Team + Speakers

(Pic Credit: BFA Communications Department)