"So then, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; what is old has passed away—look, what is new has come!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

You are not defined by your past: your past worry, your past failure, your past pain. You are a new creation in Christ! Right now.

And right now!

And right now!

Each second, you are becoming newer and newer. If you regret your past mistakes or live with regrets, you’re missing out on this foundational truth—God doesn’t see you as a compilation of past mistakes. He sees you as a new creation, growing and changing, and that’s just what you are. Each time the Holy Spirit gives you a new insight about who you are or clarity about who you were, you’re stepping into a new version of yourself. And with that insight, your vision of God comes more into focus. That’s not just wishful thinking; it’s the promise of a life lived in Christ. Each day, each moment, even, is a new beginning for you and your relationship with Jesus. And, just like God’s mercies are new every morning, so are you. You aren’t bound by the mistakes or anxieties of yesterday. In Christ, you are continuously renewed, made new, and drawn closer to Him.

God invites us into this “new creation” life as an image-bearer of Himself, allowing us to reflect His goodness, mercy, and grace. Theologians call this “imago Dei”—the image of God. This means that, in Christ, you have a spiritual DNA built for renewal upon renewal, not regression upon regression. You’re not only forgiven by the blood of Jesus; you’re transformed! That means your old life doesn’t define you; it’s part of the story you’ve lived, but not the one you’re bound to repeat. Each insight or bit of self-awareness is like a doorway you can walk through to become that new creation—the “you” God has always intended.

Read more

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; I do not give it to you as the world does. Do not let your hearts be distressed or lacking in courage.” —John 14:27

All behavior is belief-driven, so it should come as no surprise that Jesus would say that the antidote to an anxious heart is belief—not in your own strength or understanding, but in God and in His promises. He offers us the gift of a belief that God is sovereign, that He is in control, and that He is good—even in the midst of difficulty. This belief is the foundation for your peace. When you take God’s sovereignty and love as fact, you let go of the need to control everything, because that’s His job, and He’s good at it. And besides, you’re not a thief—you don’t steal from God!

Your awareness that things are out of your control can either become a blessing or a curse. For the anxious, it’s a curse; for the faithful, a blessing. The truth is that most of our anxiety comes from the fear that things are out of our hands. And they are. But fear is not a healthy response to that fact; faith is. Knowing that God is in control and that His control is stronger, better, and more beneficial than any control you could exert is a cause for peace. Anxiety is born when we blame our circumstances on other people, the weather, luck, fate—anything, but God.

Read more

“He says, “Stop your striving and recognize that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10

To be anxious is to be striving. Even though you’re not making any progress, your mind and body are working overtime to handle the happenings around you. In an effort to feel secure, your thoughts race to fix every potential problem and plan for the worst-case scenarios of tomorrow. Ironically, instead of leading to peace by finding amazing solutions and control of the situation, all this striving only leads you down the path of more stress and uncertainty. The more you try to resolve your imagined future, the more you convince yourself that the things you’re anxious about are actually happening.

When anxiety takes root, it tricks us into living in a distorted reality—one where imagined fears feel more real than God’s promises and where we focus so intensely on what could go wrong that we live as if it already has.

But God wants us to set down this imaginary world and trust Him with the reality that He is God and that He has us in the palm of His hand. In Psalm 46:10, we are encouraged to stop our striving and to recognize that He is God. With these words, He is gently reminding us that no amount of worry can change the truth that He’s the one in control. Instead of pretending we’re on our own, we’re asked to stop, to recognize His hand in our lives, and to rest in this certainty.

No matter how hard you try, you will never be a better god than He is. Even if you think you know what you need better than He ever could, you’re wrong. He knows you better than you know yourself. And He loves you more than you ever could. He’s the Father who won’t let you fall. Picture Him standing beside you, steady and strong, inviting you to let go of the anxious burden of self-sufficiency and to allow Him to carry it instead. Like a child standing at the edge of a pool, your heart pounds with fear, but when you leap into His strong, open arms, you find nothing but safety and joy.

By His very nature, God is your protector. He cannot be any other. Worrying, striving, and playing pretend can’t change His faithfulness. So why would you want to rely on your own strength when He is infinitely stronger?

It’s hard sometimes to fully trust that your life, and the lives of the people you love, are truly in God’s hands, especially when life gets hard. In those times of spiritual amnesia when you temporarily forget that He is your God and your Father, you end up trying to make yourself your own protector. But all that does is put the weight of the world on your shoulders—a burden you were never meant to bear. Through worry and stress, you try to take control of your circumstances, but this only adds to the weight you carry.

Consider that you neither have the job title nor the skill to keep the universe running. Your worry will never be as powerful as His love. Nor do you have what it takes to make your future secure, but He does, and He will. All you have to do is get out of His way and lower the shield of worry that attempts to protect you from your Protector.

Imagine you’re walking through a forest with God as your guide. He knows the way perfectly, every step and every obstacle. But still, you whip your head around, looking down every potential path, checking for danger, trying to see around every corner. The more you strive to figure out and control what lies ahead, the more anxious you become. But when you let Him lead, you can finally relax, trusting that He sees what you cannot.

Read more

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." —1 Corinthians 10:31

When Jesus was asked what the most important thing God wants from us is, He gave a simple yet profound answer: to love God and love others (Mark 12:28-31). That’s it. Love is the heart of everything—God’s plan for your life, your purpose, and how you live it out. So when the Bible tells us to do everything for God’s glory, whether it's eating, drinking, or anything else, it’s talking about love.

Love is at the root of our faith. Loving God and loving others, in everything we do, speaks to the world of the goodness of God.

Now, you might be wondering, how does this all relate to anxiety? Are you saying anxiety is the opposite of love, and if I’m anxious, it means I’m not loving? Well, good thought. The truth is, anxiety and love have a deeper connection than we might have previously realized.

Let’s take a look at how anxiety connects to love. Love, as we know, isn’t always pleasant—it’s not just about feeling warm and fuzzy inside. It’s not just about peace and calm. Love is more than a feeling—it’s a choice, a mindset, and an action. And when you’re struggling with anxiety, love with all its selfless words and actions can be the last thing on your mind.

Read more

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

You know those times when it feels like you can’t do anything right? When you struggle with sadness, anxiety, loss? When you just can’t win, you can’t make yourself do what you want to do because you are overwhelmed, depressed, or just plain mad at yourself and the world? If you do, then you know what Jesus was talking about when He said, “Apart from me you can do nothing.”

That might sound overly dramatic. After all, on your own, you can obviously do plenty. You can build a career, pursue your goals, and make friends. You can even do selfless things like helping others and making sacrifices for your family—all important and valuable things.

So what does Jesus mean when He says you can’t do anything?

You can do anything. You are just doing it without the fruit that comes from the Vine Himself; without love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. If, in the doing, you lack any of these things, then it’s because you are doing without relying on Jesus—without remaining in the vine. That means that if in the doings of life you have some complaints, then you aren’t remaining in the vine because when you remain in the vine, you experience the joy the vine feeds its branches.

Read more

“But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” So then, I will boast most gladly about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may reside in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.”
—2 Corinthians 12:9–10

In the life of every believer, you will always find Christ.

The Holy Spirit Himself is in each one of us as a deposit guaranteeing things to come, as a counselor for the present, and as a friend in the chaos. But in 2 Corinthians, Paul reveals something that he says allows the power of Christ to reside in us.

Did you catch it?

In order to live in the power of Christ, you have to boast about your weakness. That means that we find the power of God when it comes in the company of our own vulnerability. When we accept our limitations, we make room for Christ to work in and through us. When we reject them or just ignore them, then the power of Christ, while still within us, is not noticeable in our lives. In fact, it’s the opposite. When you reject or ignore your limitations and pretend that you have it all under control, or are simply lost in the chaos, then the power of Christ is no longer recognizable in your life.

This spiritual paradox of strength says that human weakness can actually lead to divine strength. By boasting in his weaknesses, Paul rejoiced in the presence of the power of God in His life. For the modern believer, this is evidence to those around us that God’s grace is sufficient for all that ails us, and that His power works most powerfully in our brokenness.

Read more

“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery leading again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father.” —Romans 8:15

There are two spirits under which a believer can live: the spirit of slavery or the Spirit of adoption. The spirit of slavery is a fearful spirit where we are still controlled by something outside of ourselves and are always feeling the threat of punishment for our failure. It keeps us always on edge, always needing to perform, to be better, to do more, and to live life overwhelmed. It leaves us with the anxious feeling that things just aren’t right; That there is something else we need to do, or to be. It’s a spirit of slavery in its emotional experience of constant fear and anxiety, not to mention fatigue and persistent stress.

But God reminds us in Romans 8:15, that we did not receive a spirit of slavery to the law and the fear of punishment, like they lived with through the entire Old Testament, but a Spirit of adoption, making us His kids. As His children, we are no longer living with the shadow of impending punishment. No, we are given a Spirit of adoption which makes us fully acceptable as a child is acceptable to their Father, and gives us a freedom from fear that only comes through the grace of God, in the form of His Holy Spirit.

But, the difference between the Spirit of adoption and the spirit of slavery goes beyond eternal life and death: It’s also the difference between:

power and subjugation,
peace and anxiety,
contentment and regret.

The Spirit we are given is a Spirit of grace whereby we are no longer fearful of what the world fears, but instead we are confident in who we are as children of God. It is when we reject the gift of God’s grace, made possible by the death, burial, and resurrection of His Son, that we fall back again into the Spirit of slavery to fear. And while that is a sorry place to find yourself, it’s also a good place to recognize, so that you can become uncomfortable enough to move out.

Read more

“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are following a different gospel—”
—Galatians 1:6

The gospel is all about grace, but that grace means nothing if we don’t receive and believe its purpose, which includes transforming us from anxious to content.

If we don’t actually embrace the gospel of grace—with all its promises of freedom, peace, and trust in God’s goodness—but only give it lip service, we end up accepting a different gospel altogether: for many of us, it is the gospel of fear.

For the anxious heart, that gospel is one of self-reliance and uncertainty, where we try to control every outcome and secure our worth or safety through our own efforts, as feeble as they may be. Instead of resting in the assurance of the gospel of grace, we end up burdened by constant worry and the endless need to manage everything ourselves. But embracing the gospel of grace means laying down the need for control and accepting that, in Christ, we are already safe, secure, and loved beyond measure.

The gifts that come with the gospel of grace —peace, freedom, and true security—aren't things we have to earn or figure out on our own, and they aren’t reserved for people who already have it all together. Jesus purchased them for all of us, even the anxious, at the highest cost: His own blood.

In His sacrifice, He paid the price to lift our burdens, to free us from fear and anxiety, and to make us whole in Him. And now, He freely offers these gifts to anyone who will just take them, knowing that accepting His grace means resting in His love and letting go of the weight we were never meant to carry: worry over our burdens. Embracing the grace of God means living fully in the freedom He died to give us—a life grounded in His perfect peace, not our constant anxiety.

It is our failures that lead us to desert the gospel of grace, and so desert the One who called us to it. That’s why you have to hear, here and now, that your shortcomings do not define your relationship with God. Neither do your trials, struggles, or fears. What defines your relationship with God is your acceptance or rejection of the sufficiency of Jesus' sacrifice, which covers every burden, including those that cause you anxiety. If your relationship with God is strained, weak, or unproductive, then it may be because you are not relying on the sufficiency of Jesus’ work on the cross to be the grace-giving gift that it is. In other words, you are not trusting that the full grace of God provides the strength you need to move from anxiety to confidence in His love and its power in your life.

To rely on the sufficiency of Jesus’ work on the cross, you have to allow that work to be bigger than whatever makes you anxious: bigger than your failure, bigger than your discomfort, bigger than your fear. You have to remind yourself daily of the gospel of grace: the cost, the love that went into it, and your need for it. If you forget all of that, then you miss out on the grace that God is giving to those who believe. Grace is a powerful agent in our lives, not just for eternity, but for now. Not just for salvation but for peace, joy, and contentment. Accept the gospel of grace with all of its challenges, including the giving up of control and the need to know, and rest in one anxious-free day at a time.

Read more

“For God did not give us a Spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control.”
—2 Timothy 1:7

Fear is an impostor. It walks in and takes a seat at the table without so much as an invitation. Like an unwanted guest at your table, fear leans in and whispers in your ear, and suddenly you’re trapped in a conversation about the worst-case scenarios that “most likely” await you tomorrow, and before you know it, the joy is sucked out of the room, and fear has everyone around you eyeing the exit.

Like a seasoned con man, fear tells you, “I belong here, and you should trust me. I can make your future more to your liking—safer and more secure.”

All the while, it’s destroying your present, as you buy into its lies. You test its waters with a toe. It seems good, sensible, and easy to enter into. Before you know it, you’ve walked into fear’s wake and are enveloped—your spirit fully sinking into it.

But God’s Word offers a way out. To stop riding the wave and being driven and tossed about by the wind of fear, you can rely on three things: power, love, and self-control.

It should come as no surprise that these three things are a gift from God. They are given to us in the power of His Spirit, which we receive when we first believe. That doesn’t mean we always listen to His still, small voice, but His voice is there all the same, and so is His power, love, and self-control.

Jesus assures us that we receive His power when the Holy Spirit comes on us: the power that raised Jesus from the dead. That’s the power we are talking about here— the power that allows us to overcome fear and the all-too-loud, fearful voice that attempts to drown out all sense. Forgetting the strength that we have within, we jump out of the lifeboat of God’s might and plunge headfirst into the dangerous waters of our own puny power. That puny power then exhausts itself analyzing fear’s promptings and sending us in the direction fear dictates, as if there is no greater power at our disposal than our own. Is it any wonder that fear wins? We alone are no match for its whispers.

The same Spirit that gives us the power of God at our fingertips also gives us the ability to love.

What’s love got to do with it?

The opposite of love isn’t always hate—it’s often selfishness. Selfishness and fear feed each other in a vicious cycle. Fear creates the perfect soil for self-protection and self-preoccupation to grow. Then, as we focus more on ourselves, our selfishness only deepens our fear—trapping us in a loop of anxiety and inward living.

Read more

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you then, although you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" —Matthew 7:7–11

Some decisions seem to demand worry—or at least call for a good fret over what God wills—whether or not this or that option is from Him, or if we are straying from His will. We worry about getting what we want and lose sleep over making the “right” decision. Then in the process of asking God for His provision, we become paralyzed—stuck in the quagmire of indecision as we worry over which option will ultimately be the best for us—and Him.

And while all of this has a noble origin, in the process of fretting, we actually become blind to God’s supply. That is because this kind of anxiety questions whether each option before us is heaven-sent, or sinful. Like the story of the man caught in a flood. As the waters rose, he prayed fervently for God's rescue. A canoe appeared, offering safe passage, but the man declined, saying, "I'm waiting for God to save me." Not long after, a speedboat shows up with the same offer, met with the same response. Finally, as the waters rise and he clings to his rooftop, a helicopter hovers above him—but again, he refuses, steadfast in his expectation of a dramatic, unmistakably divine, and almost magical intervention.

Tragically, the man perishes in the flood. At heaven's gate, he asked God one question, "Why didn't you rescue me?" To which God responds, "My child, I sent you a canoe, a speedboat, and a helicopter. You refused all my answers to your prayers."

It’s a common pitfall in the spiritual life: provision anxiety. When we become so fixated on discerning the "perfect" answer to our prayers that we overlook the blessing that’s already in front of us. In our quest for certainty and perfection, we inadvertently reject God's first response, convinced that surely there must be more options to come. It’s as if the canoe isn’t good enough—and come to think of it, neither is the helicopter. No, we are looking for something better, something divine. But if only we could have seen the first rescue as the answer to our plea for rescue, imagine the ease of joy we could have experienced almost immediately.

You don’t have to be on a rooftop to struggle to see God’s provision. Provision anxiety shows up in all kinds of situations—the job hunt, searching for a life partner, house hunting. And, the higher the stakes, the more we agonize over making the "right" choice. But what if we're approaching God's provision all wrong? What if, instead of demanding a buffet of options, we gratefully accepted the carefully prepared à la carte meal He's already set before us?

Our verse today offers a profound reassurance about this abundance: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you." There's a beautiful simplicity in this promise. God doesn't say, "Ask, and I'll present you with a complex array of choices to agonize over." Instead, He promises direct, purposeful provision that should remind us that He knows best.

Maybe the remedy to our provision anxiety is not in getting more and better options, but trusting the goodness of the Giver. When you pray for bread, God won't give you a stone. When you ask for fish, He won't offer a snake. His provision may not always match your expectations, but it will always align with His perfect will and your truest needs.

What if, instead of worrying over multiple possibilities, you embraced the first answer that aligns with your prayer? What if, upon receiving provision, you immediately transitioned from anxiety to gratitude and praise? This shift in perspective could transform your spiritual journey from one of constant fretting to one of joyful anticipation.

As you navigate life's decisions, big and small, remember the simplicity of Christ's invitation: ask, seek, knock. Trust that when you do, God's provision will be there—maybe not in the form you expected, but always in the form you need. The antidote to anxiety is trust. Can you take Jesus at His Word?

It may be a shock to your capitalistic upbringing, but over time you can recognize and embrace God's answers to your prayers, even when they come in unexpected packages. In this easy and peaceful faith in God, you will find yourself free from worry and anxiety. Instead of anxiously awaiting a grand spectacle, you will be ready to hop into the canoe of God's everyday grace. In doing so, you might just find yourself traveling lighter, unburdened by the weight of needless worry, and living in the embrace of your adventure of faith.

Thoughts to Ponder:

Read more

“The seed sown among thorns is the person who hears the word, but worldly cares and the seductiveness of wealth choke the word, so it produces nothing.” —Matthew 13:22

Have you ever felt choked by worldly cares? Are you so caught up in your stuff, your appearances, your health, or your politics that it feels like you're gasping for air—not only drifting away from God's Word but suffocating under the weight of worry, which is inconsistent with His promises?

In the parable of the sower, Jesus describes the seed sown among thorns as those of us who hear the word of God but are so weighed down and overwhelmed by worldly cares and the allure of wealth that His word is snuffed out. These distractions choke the Word, making it—and us—unfruitful. While a lot of worldly concerns are legitimate and necessary, when they become overwhelming, they distract you from the presence of God, causing you to act like He’s not even in the room.

When word of God produces nothing in you or through you, it’s time to crawl out from under the weight of your worldly concerns. You have an amazing gift that is yours to be enjoyed, shared, and reveled in. Why waste your precious time worrying about the things of this world, when you could be enjoying the God who created it all? The Westminster Catechism reminds us that we were created to enjoy God and to glorify Him forever. Are you truly enjoying your God? Because when you are, everything else falls into place. Jesus explains in Matthew 6:33, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” When you shift your focus from the temporary to the eternal, from the material to the spiritual, and you trust Him to take care of your needs, instead of being consumed by the sheer vastness of them, anxiety becomes an unnecessary reaction to life.

Read more

“Enter through the narrow gate, because the gate is wide and the way is spacious that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. But the gate is narrow and the way is difficult that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”
—Matthew 7:13–14

Being anxious is easy. It doesn’t take a lot of work to become anxious, just a lot of letting go and letting worry dominate your life. Anxiety is easy because it prompts you to walk through the wide and spacious way where you can make your own path, set your own plans, and try to manage your own problems. That way is easier than the narrow and difficult way that Jesus tells us about in Matthew 7, because it doesn’t require the difficult job of trusting and of hoping in God to be good enough, powerful enough, and to love you enough to take care of you in the midst of the chaos around and within you.

After we enter into relationship with God through the Gate—Jesus Himself—we find ourselves with a choice; we can either walk the narrow path by trusting Jesus’ with the things that plague us and make us anxious, or we can let ourselves slip into the wide way that is opened up all around us. This path represents the worldly and superficial approach to our worries that, in the end, leaves us with anxiety, unease, or even dis-ease.

Walking the narrow path requires you to accept some countercultural truths. One of those truths involves rethinking a prominent source of your anxiety: suffering. Discomfort, or actually just the fear of discomfort, is often the real genesis of your anxiety. The belief that you might not only dislike what is about to come but that it could destroy you feeds your anxiety and opens up the way to the wide path that leads only to your destruction, as it fills you with more what-ifs than hope and more doubt than trust.

Anxiety, at its core, is a kind of spiritual amnesia. Having forgotten that suffering isn’t an obstacle to the life of faith but a pathway that leads us through the narrow gate, we turn to anxiety to “help” us illuminate the twisted path we see before us. But when we remember the value suffering gives to our lives, we find less of a need to panic and are given more of an opportunity to experience the peace, joy, and rest of Jesus. Though the narrow way may be difficult, the reward is glorious.

Read more

“God is our strong refuge; he is truly our helper in times of trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)

When the Bible says God is your refuge, it doesn’t mean He is like a refuge; it means He is a refuge in the truest and deepest sense. He doesn’t just provide a sense of security; He is your security. Like a fortress, a cliff, or a high tower would have been the only place for the ancients to run to when under attack or in danger, God is a strong tower or a fortress because He is the safest, most secure place for us to run. He is your shelter in the storm, your unshakable stronghold when the world around you feels like it's falling apart.

That means that when trouble comes, you don’t have to rely on your own strength, wisdom, or resources to get through. Instead, you are called to put it all on Him, knowing that He is dependable and capable. Just like you would trust a solid, towering rock to protect you from danger, you can trust God to be the safest place to run to for your protection. He’s not just a symbol of safety; He is safety.

But how can the same God who is described as a consuming fire in Hebrews 12:29 and the Lion of Judah in Revelation 5:5 be safe? The answer lies in His perfect love and faithfulness. As His child, you are not standing against His power; you are held within it. The consuming fire burns away what threatens to harm you, and the Lion of Judah fights fiercely on your behalf. These images of strength and might are not meant to intimidate you but to reassure you. God is not safe in the sense of being tame or predictable, but He is safe in the sense that His power is always wielded for your good.

What makes God safe is not the absence of His might but the assurance of His love. He is your Father, faithful and unchanging—always present, always watching, always saving. That means you’ll never catch Him on a bad day, with the door closed or the phone silenced. You never have to worry that He’ll suddenly stop caring for you or turn His back when things get tough. His promises aren’t empty words—they’re grounded in His very nature. He is the safest person you know—the One who will always be there, no matter what comes your way.

The Bible calls Him your “helper in times of trouble.” There is no getting away from that truth. It’s right there in black and white. He is there when you need Him. He is not a distant observer or a bystander; He’s actively involved in your life, ready to help you in the blink of an eye. Whether you’re facing external threats or internal turmoil, He’s there, offering you His strength and wisdom, His love and direction. And His help isn’t conditional or limited. It’s an unshakable reality rooted in who He is—a dependable, loving God who is always present—a refuge in times of trouble.

Read more

“Think of how we regard as blessed those who have endured. You have heard of Job’s endurance and you have seen the Lord’s purpose, that the Lord is full of compassion and mercy.” (James 5:11)

To the anxious soul, trials become a curse, struggles a self-defensive thrashing at shadows. The anxious soul then seeks shelter in anxious plotting and anxious planning, which is touted as the quickest remedy to the perceived aggression. But what if, instead of focusing on how bad things look, you shifted your perspective to think about how blessed things look through the lens of trust? If you trust God and take Him at His word, then you remember that the most fortunate among us are those who suffer and yet endure.

You have the chance to be truly happy, to be blessed, when you are faced with trials and tribulations, because it is then that you find yourself in need of a Savior, and in that, you are poised to receive His provision, protection, and purpose. When your response to trials is hope instead of resentment, you prepare the runway for the provision and protection of God to land in your life, and from that, you receive a spiritual strength and resilience that you would otherwise have never known.

Once you can recognize the benefit suffering brings to the life of faith, your heart goes from heavy to weightless, from bitter to sweet, from resistant to peaceful. Instead of viewing your suffering as an unwelcome intruder, you start to see it as a purposeful tool in the hands of a loving God who is shaping you into the likeness of His Son. This perspective can help you endure with patience, hope, and even joy, rather than anxiety.

Anxiety is resistance to perfection, the perfecting fire that burns away all the dross of life that weighs you down and holds you back. Isn’t it ironic that the anxiety that arises from fearing the worst is actually keeping you from the best? Anxiety is your heart’s attempt to resist the loving hand of the potter on His clay. It is trying to jump out of His hands onto the dirty floor and to run rather than to trust that this trial is creating in you a clean heart—one that is freed from the grime of self-determination and self-reliance.

The story of Job is a peek into this process of perfecting. Job endured unimaginable suffering, but he remained faithful to God. His story isn’t just a tale of pain; it’s a testament to the purpose of pain in the life of faith. Through his trials, Job learned the reality of God—His compassion, mercy, and ultimate justice—and because of that, Job’s endurance has inspired countless millions of believers throughout the ages to trust in God’s goodness, even when life is unbearable.

Read more

“He gives strength to those who are tired; to the ones who lack power, he gives renewed energy. Even youths get tired and weary; even strong young men clumsily stumble. But those who wait for the LORD’s help find renewed strength; they rise up as if they had eagles’ wings, they run without growing weary, they walk without getting tired.”
—Isaiah 40:29–31

Strength isn’t a constant. There are times when you call on it and it’s just not there. You try to hold everything together, but it feels like you’re shouldering more than you can bear. At those moments, anxiety whispers, “If you don’t do this, no one will. If you let go, everything will fall apart.” Just like Pavlov’s dogs were conditioned to drool at the sound of a bell, worry is our subconscious reflexive responsibility response, conditioning us to look for ways to control every detail and solve every problem on our own, or the worst will happen.

But Isaiah takes the Pavlov out of the dog in this passage when he tells us that it isn’t you who sustains you through all of your worry, but God. He is the one who works in and through you toward His good purposes. Yes, even in the trial and the tribulation. The reason you often feel overwhelmed is that you forget who is truly in control. And, in one fell swoop, anxiety shrinks your strength as it leads you to forget who is doing what in your life. You forget that you are His, and He is the One guiding the outcome.

Worry says, “I’ve got to fix this,” but God says, “Rely on me for this.”

When you stop trying to rely on your own energy and ingenuity and instead look to God for help, you tap into a strength that is far beyond your own capacity. Isaiah’s imagery of rising on eagle’s wings is preceded by something amazing—waiting on the Lord. Don’t think of waiting as staying where you are. Instead, think of waiting in the server sense. A server waits. They don’t sit around with their feet up—they are busy serving. That means that waiting on the Lord involves attending to the Father’s business; serving Him instead of serving yourself through your worry.

Read more

“Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.” —Psalm 37:8 (ESV)

One of the emotions that can swiftly follow anxiety is resentment, and when you hold onto resentment—whether toward circumstances, people, or even God—you are just reinforcing the belief that life is out of balance, and that things are not as they should be. Resentment then amplifies anxiety’s quiet voice, convincing you that, in some cosmic sense, you’ve been wronged and that your situation is unfair. This internal dialogue perpetuates stress, as your mind focuses on your unwanted circumstances. Over time, this stress can deepen into more severe anxiety, irritability, and even depression, creating a vicious cycle where anxiety and resentment feed off each other.

That means that resentment keeps you trapped in the cycle of negativity, telling you that your circumstances are not just disappointing but are somehow unjust or out of alignment with what you deserve. Then, this mindset triggers your body’s stress response, releasing stress hormones like cortisol. These hormones, while useful in short bursts, are damaging when you release them continuously, like when you live in a state of ongoing resentment and anxiety.

When you hold onto resentment, it skews your perception of reality. And that leads you to start thinking in extremes, seeing life in black and white, or overgeneralizing based on a single event. You might even start to personalize situations that have nothing to do with you, believing that God is somehow conspiring against you. What a sense of anxiety it is to live in the bullseye of an angry God!

Fretting also puts your brain into cognitive dissonance, putting your beliefs and actions out of sync. It’s this kind of mostly subconscious, distorted thinking that traps you in a cycle of fretting. You focus on what’s wrong, on what you don’t have, and on how unfair your life is, so it should come as no surprise that this narrow focus makes it nearly impossible to see the bigger picture, to see the good that still exists, and to trust in God’s overarching plan for your life. And in the end, instead of seeing trials as opportunities for your growth, you begin to view them as evidence that God has abandoned you or that life is unjust.

Yet, in His infinite wisdom, when God tells us not to fret because it tends only to evil, He gives us a way out of this cycle by inviting us to adopt a different mindset—a mindset of thanksgiving and holy wonder. Instead of focusing on what’s wrong, we’re called to focus on what’s right and to trust that God’s plans for us are good, even when they involve suffering.

It is a state of holy wonder that can nourish and sustain a shift in your perspective. This comes when you step back from your problems and instead look at the God who saves. When you rest in that space, you’ll find that your anxiety diminishes. This might mean you go out into nature, observe the beauty of creation, watch animals play, or spend some time with children. It might mean climbing a mountain or gazing at the stars—whatever stirs a sense of awe in your heart, do it! Holy wonder has the awesome power to take your focus off your problems and to put it on the grandeur and goodness of God. In that state, there is no room for anxiety.

Read more

“Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.” —Psalm 37:8 (ESV)

If you’ve ever struggled with anxiety, you know all too well the host of unwelcome companions that hang around with it: fear, doubt, resentment, bitterness, and even physical ailments. Worry can feel like a lifeline, making the thought of letting go seem like a dangerous proposition. So, instead of abandoning worry with all its companions, you cling to it, believing it will build a hedge of protection around you, keeping you alert and focused on the problem at hand. But in reality, worry is a false protector, promising resolution but delivering destruction.

Anxiety, like the body's natural fight-or-flight response to danger, tries to keep us safe by putting us on high alert. But unlike fight-or-flight, that eventually goes away, anxiety hangs on, even when there is no clear and present danger. It simmers beneath the surface, never finding resolution. Over time, it puddles at the bottom of your soul. From that stagnant pool, other insidious emotions like unforgiveness, sadness, and bitterness begin to grow. This is the danger the Bible warns against when it says, "Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil."

Fretting is like balancing on top of a tall pole. The more you worry, the more weight you add to yourself in the form of emotional and physical distress. As the weight increases, the pole begins to bend and tip, threatening to drop you into the very chaos you were trying to escape. It’s a vicious cycle: one anxious thought begets more anxious thoughts, which in turn begets more distress. Soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge, about to fall into the chaos that worry was “helping” you to avoid.

But God offers a different way. He doesn’t want you to climb up that precarious pole of anxiety. He knows that fretting is like running into a dead-end alley to escape a pursuer—it doesn’t save you; it traps you. Instead of running into a corner, God invites you to run into His arms, where true safety and peace are found. His arms are a place of protection where you can be worry-free, as He holds off your assailants and keeps you on the path He has laid out for you.

Read more

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” —Matthew 6:24 (ESV)

Jesus’ teaching about serving two masters is associated with money, but it could also be applied to the two masters of God and our own plans just as easily. In our hearts, we can only be fully devoted to one, but our anxious thoughts reveal that we are torn between the two.

Anxiety can originate in the attachment you feel to your own plans, hopes, and dreams. When you aren’t sure things will turn out the way you want them to, your soul becomes disturbed. You fear that if what you had envisioned for your life doesn’t happen, you won’t be happy, provided for, or protected. This disturbance in your peace and contentment makes you question God’s choices in not allowing what you had planned in your heart to come to pass.

The truth is that when you serve the master of control, you do not serve the God of the universe. Instead, you are trying to take on roles that are His— being the source of your joy, being your provider, and your protector. In this subconscious process, you put hope in your ability to manage and dictate the course of your life, which you can’t fully do, and that inevitably leads you to stress and worry.

Think about how much energy and time you spend planning and striving to secure your future. Maybe you create detailed plans, set goals, or even map out your path to success and happiness, and while planning is not inherently wrong, it becomes problematic when you can’t find joy or contentment at the thought of your plans or goals not coming to pass. Or maybe you don’t plan—you just worry that the other shoe is about to fall, and life won’t be as great as you’d like it to be. If you’re constantly dwelling on the what-ifs and uncertainties, fearing that if things don’t go according to your script or your hopes, you will be left lacking, then you are literally torn between two masters—and that’s an anxious place to be. In fact, as long as you stay there, anxiety will be your constant companion.

This kind of fear directly contradicts God’s promises. He assures us that He is our joy, our provider, and our protector, and because of that, our future is filled with joy, provision, and protection. When you cling to your hopes and plans, you are looking away from God and toward your own limited understanding of the future, and that’s a recipe for stress.

Read more

“Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God.” (Philippians 4:6)

For a lot of us, anxiety is as natural as breathing. But God’s Word challenges our nature. In Philippians 4:6, the Bible says not to be ”anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God." With these words, Paul is giving us a divine imperative— a command, which might sound like a big ask. But if it’s a command, that just means it’s a preferable and attainable condition for the human heart and mind. You can be worry-free. You were meant to be worry-free. You were made to be worry-free. It’s the preferred setting. But if that is true, why is “the peace that surpasses all understanding” such a rare state of mind?

Anxiety is the practice of negative faith. It is, in part, what we were meant to do— the faith part— but it is a misplaced faith. It’s negative faith. It’s the opposite of faith in a God who works all things together for the good of those who love Him. It is faith in a negative outcome, not an outcome that comes through the loving hands of the Father. When we practice negative faith, we are, in essence, praying to ourselves in the process of fretting and planning around a negative outcome instead of resting in the sovereign will of God. Have you noticed, as George Mueller has, that “The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety?”

Trusting God can set you free from the idea that you are your only hope, as it shifts your dependence from yourself to Him. Or let me borrow these words from William Law, who says: “Whenever a person allows themselves to have anxieties, fears, or complaints, they must consider their behavior as either a denial of the wisdom of God or as a confession that they are out of His will.” That means that your anxiety is not just a psychological state—it's a theological statement. Is that a statement you want to make? If not, then put your trust in God and take Him at His word.

Read more

“But above all pursue his kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” —Matthew 6:33

When we take care of ourselves and get what we need without anyone else helping us, it gives us a beautiful sense of control over our lives, which is psychologically rewarding. The feelings of self-sufficiency, self-determination, and autonomy actually lead to the release of dopamine into our brains, which can contribute to feelings of well-being and make us want to do more of the same. But self-reliance is not, and has never been, a part of God’s economy.

In the economy of God, all of the value that we naturally put into self-reliance is found in God-reliance. When we prioritize pursuing or seeking God's kingdom and His righteousness, and value His will over our own, we find ourselves receiving everything we need for life and happiness. This flip in our reliance does more than just fulfill our needs; it transforms our hearts and minds. It reorients our desires, helping us to see that true fulfillment comes not from achieving our own plans but from living in harmony with God’s will.

Read more