Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Philippians 4: 11-13

Patrina and I follow a couple on YouTube who travel the country in their RV. Whenever something goes wrong—and in RV life, something always does—they call it a “dip.” The refrigerator quits. That’s a dip. The AC stops working in the middle of summer. Dip.

For some people, those moments feel like disasters. For others, they’re just part of the journey—an opportunity to adjust, regroup, and make the best of it.

This week, we’ve had a few dips of our own.

I came home to discover our furnace stopped working sometime in the last few weeks. That’s not exactly welcome news in the winter. One night, Patrina weathered a strong windstorm in the camper and said it felt a little too close to a scene from The Wizard of Oz. And today, I carelessly set my camera down a little too quickly. Let’s just say gravity still works.

But here’s the thing: the furnace can be replaced. Patrina didn’t float away. And while I’ll need a new lens protector, the camera itself is just fine.

Dips.

Life isn’t always easy. That’s part of what Paul was getting at when he wrote those often-quoted words, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” We love that verse—and rightly so—but we sometimes forget the context.

Paul wasn’t talking about winning trophies or achieving personal milestones. He was talking about contentment.

He had learned how to live with plenty—and how to live with little. When he was well fed, he was content. When he was hungry, he was content. When circumstances were smooth, and when they were painfully difficult, he had discovered a steady confidence in Christ.

That’s the “can do” attitude Paul was describing—the ability to endure, to trust, and to remain steady no matter what comes.

I can’t say I’ve mastered that lesson. But I will say this: in each little dip this week, I’ve experienced a surprising calm. Furnaces aren’t built to last forever, and I’m grateful we have the means to replace ours. Patrina thanked God that the storm passed safely. And I’m thankful my photography mishap wasn’t worse.

Contentment doesn’t mean we pretend problems aren’t real. It means we trust that God is just as present in the dips as He is on the mountaintops.

And once again, I’m reminded—He is faithful in every situation.