Many dear friends have difficulties in their lives that don’t make for good small talk. They feel about as useful to the church as a clock without batteries. And the fact that they make it out to church at all is God’s grace.
It’s tempting to retreat from people in these times, but we must keep coming back because God warns us against quitting fellowship (Heb. 10:25). The opposite of our instinct is what we really need most, and when it comes down to it, our trials are not always about us. Sometimes we go through them for the sake of others.
The Importance of Struggling Church Members
The Apostle Paul describes the church as a living body whose head is Christ. Each individual is an essential part. Some parts of the body appear weaker or less visible and we are tempted to view them as less important. But Paul confronts this misconception in 1 Cor. 12:20-22:
…THERE ARE MANY PARTS, YET ONE BODY. THE EYE CANNOT SAY TO THE HAND, “I HAVE NO NEED OF YOU,” NOR AGAIN THE HEAD TO THE FEET, “I HAVE NO NEED OF YOU.” ON THE CONTRARY, THE PARTS OF THE BODY THAT SEEM TO BE WEAKER ARE INDISPENSABLE…
Against all logic, the weaker ones are “indispensable” to the church. When circumstances cripple you, your ministry may be smaller and less obvious to others, but your worth is not diminished. The church needs your weakness as much as you need its strength.
5 Practical Tips For Struggling Hearts
Even the most resilient church members have bad days. Some days our hearts feel so fragile that we can’t bear the thought of rubbing up against the opinions of others. Three godly women advised me of what I might do in my circumstance. Here are their suggestions:
Instead of going into all the details of your life, ask people to pray for you in specific things. For example, “Please pray that I could find contentment this week. I’m struggling to wait on God’s timing.” Or whatever is relevant to your circumstances. God works through the prayers of his people and most are happy to pray for you if you ask.
Don’t take responsibility for making others feel okay about your circumstances. People in the church will grieve with you when you grieve. It’s okay. You don’t have to comfort them on your behalf.
If you are having a particularly bad day, avoid small talk. Retreat to a quieter corner and have one or two slower, more focused conversations.
Try not to be hard on people if they are insensitive. They may be feeling guilty that they haven’t asked you about your troubles for a long time, not knowing that you just hashed through it with five other people and you are weary.
It’s okay to divert the conversation. A vague answer followed by a question can put the attention on someone else. And sometimes the best thing we can do is get out of our own head and encourage another person. Because perhaps you—in your messy, unstable life—will speak into someone else’s life the exact insight that they need to hear. God’s strength is made perfect in weakness and sometimes Christ’s power works through us when we feel our most inadequate (2 Cor. 12.9).
This advice has helped me to be part of church life even on days when I’m struggling. In my experience, the times that I wanted to fellowship the least I often benefited the most or had a surprising opportunity to speak into someone’s life. What God is teaching me in my struggles is often the exact thing that someone else needs to hear.
But it is also important to admit our limitations. Pride makes us hate to admit neediness of any kind, but the truth is, we need each other and ultimately, we need Christ. And sometimes our weakness offers the perfect vantage point to encourage those around us in the Lord.
I walk hand in hand with the man I love. Golden evening sun warms the flowing barley field, and we circle around it in contented quiet. My husband knows me well. My sensitive nature has been bruised, and I still feel the effects of it. Sometimes I wish I had thicker skin, but I’m reluctant to form calluses that shut people out. What I really want is to be able to forgive when people hurt me. But I’m weary, and it feels hard.“It’s like a muscle you have to train,” he said gently. “You just keep practicing until it becomes easier.”His comment got me thinking more about training for godliness. Each choice—no matter how small—is like flexing a muscle. The apostle Paul encouraged his spiritual son, Timothy, to “train yourself for godliness” (1 Tim. 4:7). And I wonder if training looks more ordinary than we imagine. As strange as it sounds, sometimes we need to think smaller. Our longings for extraordinary experiences can blind us to the opportunity right in front of us. Even good ambitions require little steps first. Before you climb a mountain, you have to do your push-ups. And sometimes finding the motivation to “train yourself” is harder than you imagined.
God’s Grace Is More Than a One-Time Blessing
Do athletic metaphors for spirituality make you feel deflated? Maybe you are struggling in your spiritual life and can’t imagine how you could run harder. Christians feel the pull of sin because we live in tension between what is sometimes called “the now and not yet.” Christ’s sacrifice for our sin has made us “perfect” and yet we are “being sanctified” (Heb. 10:12–14). Our position before God is holy, and yet in practice, we still struggle with sin—both our own and also the sins of others. Paul describes it by saying, “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. . . . Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7:19, 24).We all feel this tension of not being good enough and frustration with struggles that we can’t seem to conquer. Remember there is grace for this moment. God’s grace is not exhausted by justification but overflows into sanctification. So we can respond with Paul, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:25).
Where Do You Find Hope?
Scottish pastor, Robert Murray M’Cheyne, once said, “For every look at self, take ten looks at Christ.” In other words, however long we analyze our struggles, we need to spend that amount of time—times ten—meditating on Christ and His promises. When we read God’s Word, listen to preaching, and pray, our minds are transformed and our spirits are renewed. These disciplines feel ordinary, and even boring at times, but God uses these ordinary means of grace to do an extraordinary transformation in our hearts. Far too often our struggles blind us to the hope in front of us. Like a millionaire who acts homeless, we have a wealth of resources in Christ but can’t see past our circumstances to take hold of it. But when we look to Christ, we find hope, because in Him we have everything we need for life and godliness ( 2 Peter 1:3). Does godliness seem like an intimidating goal? Do you know that there is hope in Christ when your heart feels weary?
As a twenty-something newlywed, I climbed the steps of the Royal Conservatory on Bloor Street in Toronto, eager to meet my petite French vocal coach for my regular lesson. I had no idea that a mere four years later I would become a pastor’s wife. My artsy, hipster existence would be forever changed.
Being married to a man with a shepherd’s heart is a wonderful blessing, but it also comes with unique challenges. When my husband transitioned from a Toronto Professor to a Calgary Pastor, the biggest change for me was that my house suddenly became transparent.
It’s no secret that pastor’s families live in glass houses. If you are married to a pastor, you’ve likely had to reckon with what it means to live your life in this highly visible role. Pride would have us try to live up to everyone’s standards, but as the wizened among us will tell you, perfectionism only results in unfulfilled expectations.
The irony of pride is that it makes us fearful, anxious and insecure. We constantly have to prove we are as good as we think we are.
Fortunately for pastor’s wives (and every other human on the planet), the bible nowhere praises people for their perfection and self-sufficiency. Instead we are encouraged to live every day in view of God’s grace.
An Example in Sarah
The Apostle Peter held Sarah up as woman “who hoped in God” precisely because she placed her hope in Someone better than herself (1 Pet. 3:5).
Sarah wasn’t called a “holy” woman because she was sinless. She was called a holy woman because, when she sinned, she repented and her life shows a pattern of obedience and hope in God.
In hope, she looked to God when He called her husband, Abram, to leave Ur of the Chaldeans, with no idea where they were going (Heb.11:8). In hope, she looked to God through the inherent dangers in travel, even when Abraham lied about who she was on two separate occasions, and foreign kings took her as what we can only assume to be a concubine (Gen. 12, 20).
After waiting until the twilight of her life to conceive, Sarah’s faith came to the ultimate test when God told Abraham to sacrifice their precious son on an altar. Her faith was tried and tested, and as Peter said earlier in his letter, faith tested by fire is more precious than gold.
What Sarah exemplifies for us is not perfection, but a persevering faith. Sarah’s trials taught her to reject the false security of people and circumstances, and instead hope in something better. This is why Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit holds her up as an example of a “holy woman who hopes in God.”
Secure in God’s Grace
It’s a mistake to tread lightly at the throne of grace. When trials or criticism make us feel unstable and vulnerable, that is precisely when we need to lean in more. Because of Christ, we can “with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Heb. 4:14- 16)
When I was vacationing in Arizona with my family recently, we went for a beautiful hike through the desert. The landscape was full of cacti, mesquite trees, and desert shrubs that were completely foreign to our Canadian terrain. And as we reached the summit of a hill, I saw on the horizon, not one, but two eagles gliding through the air.
I have to admit, I’ve never noticed how an eagle flew before that moment, but on this day, I sat there and observed. I noticed the ease with which these large birds seemed to glide through the sky. Their wings were not flapping, they were literally gliding on the wind. There was nothing frantic about it. They were not tiring themselves out. In fact it looked restful and invigorating at the same time.
Isaiah 40:31 came to mind. “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”
And as the truth of these words penetrated my heart, I wondered how often I unnecessarily flap my wings, tiring myself out with my self-reliance.
The Lord is the one who forgives our sins and strengthens us for ministry. The Lord makes us soar like an eagle, gliding on the wind, empowering us by the Holy Spirit.
Our perfectionist dreams for ourselves may be more flattering, but they will never amount to anything more than unfulfilled expectations and a ginormous amount of wing-flapping. Whereas God is able to do “far more abundantly” than we even know to ask or think (Ephes. 3:20).
Our glass houses are a blessing in disguise because they remind us that there was only one perfect man in the history of the world, and we are not him! Jesus was perfect for us. He took on our sin and gave us his righteousness (2 Cor. 5:21). This alone is the reason a holy God accepts us.
Pastor’s wives are not perfect, but when we put our hope in God’s grace and sufficiency for us, we are no longer slaves to the next wave of public opinion or even our own changing emotions. Sarah’s life showed a pattern of obedience and hope in God and that is why Peter said that we are her daughters if we “do good and do not fear anything that is frightening.” (1 Pet. 3:6)
Glass houses become less scary when we’re secure in God’s grace.
A version of this article titled, Grace for the Pastor’s Wife was originally posted at The Gospel Coalition Canada
I’m never sure how to answer when someone asks how I’m doing health-wise. I’d like to say, “I’m okay for now,” or “I’m not sure,” but those replies seem to make people uncomfortable. There is an ongoingness to my autoimmune disease that’s hard to explain. It’s like the wind. Sometimes it blows hard, and other times it stands still . . . and you never know when the next gust will come.
One author wrote this about her autoimmune disease: “A spinal cord injury can paralyze you in a moment, but the paralysis of my disease is a long story. Worse, then better, then worse, then better. For years.”
When I was first diagnosed with lupus, fear of death hit me hard. Not so much because I fear being dead, but more because of what it would do to my young family. Sometimes fear still creeps up on me.
But I’ve come to see that the corruption of my body does not undermine the fact that I am still living. Nor is it at odds with God making all things new (Rev. 21:5). Everyone is dying, but sometimes it takes a diagnosis to remember what our purpose is in the meantime.
Shadowlands
Although it’s trendy to “live in the moment,” it’s hard to make sense of our difficulties without reference to the future.
There’s a scene in the movie Shadowlands between C.S. Lewis and his wife, Joy, where she expresses this sentiment well. He is in denial about her cancer diagnosis, and she wants to be able to talk with him about it.
Lewis says, “Now I don’t want to be somewhere else anymore. Not waiting for anything new to happen. Not looking around the next corner, not the next hill. Here now. That’s enough.”
Joy replies, “That’s your kind of happy, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
“It is not going to last, Jack.”
“We shouldn’t think about that now. Let’s not spoil the time we have together.”
“It doesn’t spoil it. It makes it real. Let me just say it before this rain stops, and we go back.”
“What’s there to say?”
“That I’m going to die, and I want to be with you then, too. The only way I can do that is if I’m able to talk to you about it now.”
“I’ll manage somehow. Don’t worry about me.”
“No, I think it can be better than just managing. What I am trying to say is that the pain then is part of the happiness now. That’s the deal.”
The pain then is part of the happiness now. These words hit me every time I watch this movie. She is saying that the pain of future death intensifies the joy of life today.
For the Christian especially, death causes us to appreciate God’s grace, not only in this life, but especially in the one to come.
In the “shadowlands,” the sun isn’t shining. Clouds of pain and sorrow fill your horizon, and life feels hard. But even here the Christian must acknowledge that victory has swallowed up death (1 Cor. 15:54). Darkness has not won.
The apostle Paul rejoiced “in the hope of the glory of God” (Rom. 5:2), not because his life was easy but because there was glory in his future. And because of that, joy invaded the present.
Hope of Future Glory
God’s blessings in this life are a foretaste of heaven, but without the pain we forget that blessings are merely pointers. We need the pain to remind us there is something better than this world. We wouldn’t long for divine love if human love was perfect. We wouldn’t long for feasting in heaven if there wasn’t starvation, eating disorders, and financial hardships here on earth. We would settle in our sin and take what we could get with no thought of what we are giving up.
The smell of rain, the sound of children laughing, the taste of a fresh blueberry, the pleasure of a friend’s company, and the comfort of a spouse’s arms—these blessings intermingle with pain and uncertainty and make us long for something better.
Ongoing illness is a beast to contend with. So is foster parenting, job insecurity, marriage troubles, persecution, and a host of other unnamed difficulties. But each “affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17).
Trials are those blessings in disguise that prod us out of our complacency and expose the inadequacy of our favorite worldly comforts.
Jesus invites us to find spiritual rest in Him (Matt. 11:28–29). Unlike its earthly counterparts, the rest Jesus offers transcends the shadowlands and defies our circumstances. As Augustine famously said in his Confessions, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”
To my fellow shadowlanders: I feel your pain, but we need the hard places to remind us that we are not home yet. They wean us off of lesser hopes and push us into the arms of True Rest, where we were always meant to be.
Jesus offers you rest today. Will you trust Him with your future?
I’ve tried to find a cure for what ails me, but I’ve never found the proverbial magic bullet.
Not many of us do.
I think of the young woman I was chatting with at the doctor’s office who was fighting tooth and nail against her illness. “Have you tried BodyTalk?” she asked me.
“No, I don’t know what that is,” I told her.
“It’s kind of hard to explain…the person kind of taps your body in different places. It’s an energy thing.”
I couldn’t quite think of how to respond. But she continued and spared me the need, “My practitioner is very good. She told me how I died in a previous life.”
I will spare you all the gory details about how she died, suffice it to say, it was more than I wanted to know. But her story did make me think. Don’t we all want someone to tell us deep, life-changing secrets about ourselves?
God sees all things clearly, but we see only partially, and sometimes I long to see what God sees. For instance, how and why does autoimmunity happen? There are clues, but no answers. I don’t know. My doctor doesn’t know. The specialists don’t know.
So I look to God’s word and find that Jesus has unlimited knowledge. Not only was he involved in the creation of all things, he now holds all things together.
For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible…And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together…
(Col. 1:16)
He was before disease. He was before human intelligence. He was there at the beginning of the world when everything was good. He created the forests, the oceans and the sun’s warm rays. He created love, and the angels, and every invisible process of life. And God saw that it was good. He created all things and in him they hold together (Col 1:17). Not one antibody in my system rebels outside his sovereign purposes (Rom 8:28).
Ask your average churchgoer what their spiritual gifts are, and you may get a blank stare. Not many of us can say with certainty what God has supernaturally equipped us to do. And yet the Bible is clear that spiritual gifts are not just for pastors (Rom. 12:4–8).
Perhaps it feels audacious to claim discernment as our gift and no less prideful to claim wisdom or mercy. For others, defining their gift puts pressure on them and they’d rather leave ministry to the “professionals.” Still others simply have no idea how to begin to discover what our gifts actually are.
Theologian J.I. Packer’s book Keep in Step With The Spirithas been immensely helpful for me in bringing clarity to this issue. While the gifts function more like a footnote than a main theme in this book, his insight on the topic is invaluable.
What I Learned
1. Every believer has a gift.
According to Packer, “All Christians have gifts and tasks of their own within the church’s total ministry.” Ministry is not just for the pastors and clergy, it is “a necessary part of everyone’s discipleship.”
Many of us have wondered whether our spiritual gifts really matter. We see the highly visible gifts of preaching, teaching, and evangelism as “real ministry” and feel no compulsion to practice our “lesser” gifts with equal zeal. This logic may seem sound, but it is profoundly unbiblical.
The apostle Paul said that Christ gave us the “apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry” (Eph. 4:11–12, emphasis added). In other words, your pastor equips you for the ministry of your local church.
It shouldn’t surprise us then that Paul is so eager to have Christians exercise their spiritual gifts. He warns Timothy, “Do not neglect the gift you have” (1 Tim. 4:14) and seems no less eager to have every member of the Body of Christ participating in their various roles (1 Cor. 12:14–19).
While it may not be essential to nail down with certainty the shape and boundaries of our giftings, it is helpful to have some idea. With so many things rallying for our time and attention, a defined spiritual gift helps us know what to prioritize.
2. Spiritual gifts must be defined as Christ’s work in our midst.
The reason many of us feel presumptuous in claiming a spiritual gift is because we have wrongly assumed that our spiritual gifts are about us. But as Packer points out, “spiritual gifts must be defined in terms of Christ, as actualized powers of expressing, celebrating, displaying and so communicating Christ in one way or another, either by word or by deed. They would not be edifying otherwise.”
They are not natural abilities and skills, nor on the other hand, a sort of “supernatural novelty,” as Packer puts it. Spiritual gifts are given “in Christ” (1 Cor. 1:4, 7), and they are for the common good and edification of the church (1 Cor. 12:7; Eph. 4:12, 16).
We don’t need to feel embarrassed about naming and exercising our spiritual gifts because they are not about us. Instead, our gifts display, celebrate, express, and communicate Christ.
3. It is only a gift if and when God uses it to edify.
This point is closely connected to the last one. There must be outward, visible edification of the church when you exercise your spiritual gift. If there is none, it’s not a spiritual gift. An inward prompting and desire is important, but we must also have outward confirmation that others see and recognize God’s work through us.
Packer says, “We need to draw a clear distinction between use of our abilities rather than the abilities themselves that constitute charismata [spiritual gifts]. If no regular, identifiable spiritual benefit for others or ourselves results from what we do, we should not think of our capacity to do it as a spiritual gift.”
Getting input from pastors, small group leaders, and others in your church is essential. Just because you are a great orator doesn’t mean you have the gift of teaching. And just because you think you have the gift of discernment doesn’t mean you do.
On the flip side, God may empower you to serve the church in ways unexpected and perhaps against your natural inclinations. I will never forget reading about John Piper’s intense fear of public speaking. In his bookFuture Grace, he recounts how he made a vow to God before he had to pray publicly:
“Lord, if you will bring me through this without letting my voice break, I will never again turn down a speaking opportunity for you out of anxiety.”
Thank God that his fear of public speaking didn’t cause him to dismiss the idea that he could be gifted in speech!
4. Gifts of speech and gifts of service are theologically equal.
Many of us imagine a false hierarchy between the gifts of speech and what Packer calls “Samaritanship,” that is, “the loving helpful response to others’ physical and material needs.”
When our giftings fall into the realm of Samaritanship, they are often less visible and prominent than gifts of speech. For this reason, we tend to view them as less important. But the church is not like the world in how it assigns value.
Packer says, “From heaven Christ uses Christians as his mouth, his hands, his feet, even his smile; it is through us, his people, that he speaks and acts, meets, loves and saves here and now in this world.”
Is Christ’s smile any less important than His words? Are His hands and His feet? As Paul says, “If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?” (1 Cor. 12:17). Even those who seem to be weaker are essential members of the Body (v. 22).
We are all “created in Christ Jesus for good works” (Eph. 2:10). When we feel uncertain about our spiritual gifts, the best thing we can do is start serving in our local church and see what God does. When our internal desires line up with external affirmation and identifiable spiritual benefit, we are on our way.
Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her
This story of two sisters resonates with me. Like Martha, I like things done well. I’m not a laid back, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. I may wish I was, but I have a deep-seated compulsion to cross my t’s and dot my i’s. I like my house clean, my meals balanced and my calendar organized. (Although I don’t accomplish this often!) Like Martha, I am frequently, as Jesus diagnosed, “anxious and troubled about many things”.
In Martha’s defence, she does have Jesus sitting in her living room. Jesus. This is not your average house guest. I imagine that Martha is not merely a resentful sibling; but she is sincerely distressed. She wants to please Jesus. She longs to be the perfect hostess, as defined by her family and culture.
Meanwhile, her beloved sister, Mary, was not helping. The text says that while Martha “was distracted with much serving” Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet” (v.39).
It’s not hard to understand Martha’s frustration when she asks, “Lord do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?” (v.40).
Martha’s Malady
Jesus’ response to Martha is neither scathing nor placating. Instead, he cuts straight to the heart of the issue with both compassion and frankness; “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”
When Jesus tells Martha that “one thing is necessary”, He doesn’t mean that food and shelter are superfluous. It was not that Mary had chosen a spiritual occupation (learning from Jesus) while Martha had chosen a carnal one (serving and hospitality). John 12 records how Jesus dined with them again, and again “Martha served” while Mary anointed Jesus feet with expensive oil. Jesus was not rebuking Martha for her role in the household—service and hospitality are Christian virtues–rather, Jesus was diagnosing a spiritual malady.
Those of us who resonate with Martha like to be able to control our environment. We trust in our own ability to make life comfortable, safe and sustainable. Jesus didn’t despise Martha’s servant heart; He loved her (Jn. 11:5). But Jesus loved Martha enough to tell her that her pursuit of perfection on earth was wrong-headed. Not only is it impossible for humans to control their circumstances with God-like ability, it’s also prideful and inherently unstable. There was a better way, and Mary had chosen it.
The Good Portion
Anyone who struggles with anxiety can tell you that it’s torturous and exhausting. Jesus’ rebuke cuts through the ropes that bind Martha to false obligations of perfection. “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”
The simplicity of Jesus direction is paradigm shifting. Martha is not the linchpin upon which all other moving pieces depend. She is a valued part, but not the centre. Martha’s problem was that she had an over-inflated view of both her ability and responsibility. She was limited by humanity, but expected her work to reflect the perfection of Divinity.
Perhaps Mary should have helped Martha, but Jesus said that Mary had chosen the “good portion”. These words bring to mind numerous Old Testament passages that speak of close communion with God as the believer’s “portion” or “inheritance” (e.g. Ps. 16:5-6, 73:26, Josh.18:7). Mary took the posture of disciple and servant. She chose close fellowship with Jesus as her priority.
The irony for Martha was that she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. meanwhile, the One who actually “upholds the universe” was sitting in her living room (Heb. 1:3)! She was tore up about food, drink and hospitality standards, while the Creator, Sustainer and Savior of humanity was sitting at her table. I can’t help feeling embarrassed for Martha when I read this passage, and yet how often do I choose to fixate on temporal things while matters of eternal value fade into the background?
We may not have Jesus at our table, but distance doesn’t make a difference. Only Jesus holds the universe together by the word of his power. He dwells in us by His Spirit (1 Jn 3:24) and strengthens us for the tasks ahead (Phil. 4:13). And yes, this is good news for the Marthas among us.
For those of us who resonate with Martha’s control-anxiety, we need to constantly choose the better portion; we must prioritize time at Jesus’ feet. We may have emails to send, people to feed and responsibilities to fulfill. But when we choose fellowship with God first, we acknowledged that He is the centre of our universe. He is the linchpin that holds it all together.
When the stuff of life pulls us in twenty different directions, the good news is this: only one thing is necessary. The rest is transient. Like Martha, our role may be to serve, but when we choose to prioritize close communion with the Lord first, it allows us to relinquish our control-anxiety to Him. The day ahead may be filled with responsibilities, deadlines and scheduled events, but our hearts are not frantic. “My flesh and my heart may fail,” says the Psalmist, “but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Ps. 73:26)
No one goes through life without worry. For some of us, anxiety feels like a stray dog, always following us around, or like steam bursting out of a boiling kettle. The feelings are strong, quick to surface and not easily contained.
The Anxiety and Depression Association of America (ADAA) reports that anxiety disorders affect 18 percent of the adult population, and some say that Millennials are the most anxious generation of all. With endless decisions and a wide open future, it is no wonder that young adults are feeling the pressure.
Not all anxiety is the same. Some anxiety is a God-given aid to help us cope with difficult circumstances. For example, a stress response may help us do well on a test or run away from a wild animal. But other kinds of anxiety are destructive and suffocating. They suck the joy out of life and negatively impact our work and relationships.
It’s not surprising that we struggle with anxiety when we consider how frail and limited our lives actually are. An unwelcome turn of events or a loved one’s death is all it takes to remind us of what it means to be human.
Brian Munnings, director of Toronto Biblical Counseling, told me that “most worry can be significantly helped by a good friend or a willingness to cry out to the Lord and seek him in His Word,” but when anxiety becomes debilitating, Munnings recommends you seek professional help.
Meanwhile, the Bible has more to say about anxiety than most people realize. God’s people have been struggling with anxiety since the beginning of time. If worry is wrecking your life, here are four spiritual truths to fight back with.
God Understands You
In moments of anxiety, God seems distant. We may imagine that He takes an occasional cursory glance in our direction, but in these moments, our imagination is wrong. God’s Word tells us that “the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him” (Ps. 33:18).
My pastor once told me that God knows me better than I know myself. And although it may be hard to believe that someone could know you better than you do, this is the picture that God’s Word paints.
Do you know the exact number of hairs on your head? God does (Matt. 10:30). He knows the exact number of your days. He knows your words before you speak them. He discerns your thoughts from afar. He saw you when you were being knit together in your mother’s womb. He actually formed your inward parts (Psalm 139).
There is nothing about your situation or the inner workings of your heart that God does not understand. You may be a tangle of anxious emotions, but He sees clearly what you need. He made you with your unique temperament, and He placed you in your mother’s womb to be born into your family at this particular time. And He has plans for you in your unique circumstances.
Anxiety can make us feel isolated, misunderstood and hopeless, but you are not alone. God understands you.
God Is Greater Than Your Emotions
Everyone loves an authentic, emotionally-aware person, but our culture tends to elevate a person’s feelings above every other marker of truth. Movies and novels portray strong, authentic emotions as ultimate, and Instagram feeds are filled with quotes encouraging us to follow our hearts.
But what if our emotions tend toward anxiety? Our culture of supposed authenticity makes us a victim to our own emotions. By contrast, the Bible tells us that our emotions can deceive us (Jer. 17:9) and that Jesus himself is the Truth (John 14:6).
This is remarkably liberating for those of us who struggle with anxiety because we can acknowledge our anxious feelings without putting too much stock in them. 1 John 3:20 says, “God is greater than our heart.” In other words, God’s will holds more weight than our feelings do.
Welsh preacher and medical doctor Martyn Lloyd-Jones advised that we talk to ourselves more than listen to ourselves. In his book Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure, he wrote, “Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?”
His advice for spiritually depressed people can easily be applied to an anxious heart. When anxiety plagues us, we must tell ourselves that God is greater than our anxiety. Just because we feel anxious does not mean that we are any less secure in God’s care. God is not limited like we are. He works all things together for the good of His children (Rom. 8:28).
Jesus Has Secured Your Future
In the midst of stressful circumstances, heaven may seem like unreality. But God’s people have a long history of looking to future promises to help them with present difficulties. Even Jesus endured the cross because of “the joy that was set before him” (Heb. 12:2).
It’s stressful when life doesn’t go according to plan. Difficult circumstances stretch us and push us into uncomfortable places, but trials are a God-given means to prepare us for “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17).
Nowhere in Scripture are Christians promised to have ease and abundance in this lifetime. In fact, according to the Apostle Paul not many Christians are rich, powerful, or “wise according to worldly standards,” but rather “those who desire to be rich fall into temptation” (1 Cor. 1:26, 1 Tim. 6:9).
If you are a Christian, it is much more likely that God has plans to refine you through trials because they grow your character and faith (Rom. 5:4).
If you are constantly struggling with anxiety, you may want to check whether you are holding your earthly plans with a death grip. Jesus is able “to save forever those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them” (Heb. 7:25). It’s OK to open your hand. If you trust in Jesus, He holds your future secure forever.
God Establishes Your Steps
We will never be free from sinful anxiety until we admit that God is on the throne, not us.
Our life is a stewardship from God. He has given us intelligence, talents, opportunity, and a unique personality. Our job is to take the gifts and responsibilities He’s entrusted us with and use them for His glory.
This is very different than creating your own destiny. A person who takes the entire weight of their life upon their shoulders is bound to feel anxious. There are far too many uncontrollable factors in the world around us.
Proverbs 16:9 says, “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.” We can plan for the future, but only God is sovereign over it. We have no power over world dictators, incurable illness and natural disasters. We can’t even control the weather! It is no wonder that we feel stressed when we erase God from the equation.
We may imagine that God doesn’t care about our life as much as we do, but the truth is that the sovereign King of the universe counts each of our “tossings” (also translated “sorrows” or “wanderings”) and puts our “tears in a bottle” (Ps. 56:8). It is impossible for us to control our destiny, but we can trust God to establish our steps.
The hard work of overcoming anxiety happens as we grow in our relationship with God. Everything else is more like a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. You may gain temporary relief from mindfulness techniques or adult coloring books, but they are a distraction, not a cure.
Anxiety can be good if it drives us to Jesus. Instead of believing the lie that we are autonomous, we can learn what it is to walk humbly in dependence on God. After all, “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7).
The Merry Family by Jan Steen (1668). Courtesy of Google Art & Culture, and the Rijksmuseum.
At the dinner table, after we’ve eaten but before we clean up, Christel and I spend time having some table talk. Martin and Katie Luther made the practice famous with their Tischreden or Table Talk, and Ligonier calls their magazine Table Talk. But all that we do with our three sons is discuss a passage of Scripture or working through the New City Catechism.
What does the righteousness of God mean?
As the last boy ate his last bites, I opened up Romans 3:21 and read the passage:
But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it
Romans 3:21
Since kids attention spans are short, we don’t like to make our table talk a seminary class. So my plan was to look at the first part of this verse.
My question to the table was “What does the righteousness of God mean?” A good response back was that it meant God’s holiness. Another response was that is was God’s rightness.
I went with that. God’s righteousness, I tried to explain, was his character of perfect rightness, which is always holy, which is always good. He’s right and he’s always right.
From “But now” to Butt Jokes and Back Again
From there we switched to looking at the phrase “But now”. I asked the table about the “but”. Of course, the boys started making butt jokes. Whose butt? As the conversation turned toward smelly butts (very Luther-like), I reined us in and asked why the “But now” was there.
A boy suggested that something different was happening. And it was happening right now.
I agreed. We then had a discussion about how long is ‘now’. I explained the concept of an unending moment, what theologians would call an eschatological ‘now’ or the grammarians call a gnomic present (mercifully none of which I included in my explanation). A boy waved his hands and said it is now forever and ever. And I said he had got it exactly right.
Connecting the ‘But now’ with ‘the righteousness of God’
At this point, we had to start wrapping things up. We still hadn’t connected the contrast between what had been discussed in chapters 1-3 and what Paul was saying in Ro 3:21. I asked the table about the righteousness earlier in chapter 3. One boy remembered that there is “none righteous, no, not one” (Ro 3:10). I asked how did everyone know what was right and what wasn’t. In a dramatic courtroom judge voice, one boy declared, “The Law!”
At this point, we were nearing the max of our table talk attention span. I left our discussion with that judge-like declaration. Ready to continue the discussion at the next table talk.
I remember a while ago how I had to study anatomy intensively in order to get my Pilates teacher training certification.
The intricate and complex design of the human body was a little overwhelming to comprehend. Having barely scratched the surface of the muscular and skeletal systems, I was struck by how each of the many muscles, ligaments, tendons and bones are integrated so perfectly for the human body to function.
Each detail has a reason behind it. There is a distinct purpose in the masterpiece of the human body. The study of anatomy points strongly to a Designer. I recall how the Pilates instructor said on the one hand, “We don’t really need the psoas minor anymore, it was only necessary when we walked on all fours”, yet on the other hand could say, “The way the femur attaches into the hip socket is a genius design.”
Later another student asked, “Why is the lumbar spine designed like…um…I mean…whatever you believe…what is the purpose of its limited range of motion in rotation?”
As we saw the purpose and function of everything, it was pretty difficult to talk about the human body as a mere random chance. Presupposing evolution made it hard for anyone to ask “why?” without contradicting themselves.
Psalm 139 says:
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
Psalm 139
Creation undeniably points to the glory of the Creator. What joy to know that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” in a way that transcends even our profound physical make-up. Studying anatomy has helped me appreciate again the wonder of God having “intricately woven” us in secret.
Who can comprehend the greatness of the mind of God?
