Could I see it in a different way?
Choosing how we will see a moment in time in light of not being able to see the future.
God sparing the life of a sibling in the days between Christmas and the New Year had a way of making me think.
The pressure of Christmas, projects, clients, and creating content for paying readers of the blog had been building as I struggled to keep up until suddenly it wasn’t important at all, anymore, and all I could pray was that God would help people to be gracious with me as I missed deadlines and inboxes and updates went silent.1 Hours of driving, icy roads, and hospital waiting rooms ate up the clock instead.
I didn’t want to worry. It was normal to be scared of the what-ifs, but I knew that worry would eat me alive.
In the last few years, I’ve repeatedly said I’m trying to live a Philippians 4:8 life. That is still on the table. And now, in addition to it and working hand-in-hand with it, is Matthew 6:34.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Worry is a form of pride.
It’s fretting about things of the future—a realm we have no control or knowledge of—thinking we might be able to impact it by turning it over and over in our minds. It’s taking action today on things that haven’t even happened when God hasn’t told us to do so. It’s telling God we don’t have quite enough faith in Him, and that even though he reassures us he holds the future we kind of don’t think he does. It’s missing the beauty of the moment, of the current day, choosing to trade it in for imagined darkness down the road.
Worry is us choosing to lean on our own understanding.
Philippians 4:8 tells us to think about things that are good, holy, just, pure, righteous, noble, lovely, and of good report. That’s not just a matter of what TV shows to watch or what kind of conversation to avoid, but also about asking God to help us control our minds and bolster our faith in Him instead of letting our minds spin and run unstopped over and over with fear and worry and imagining worst-case scenarios, living life as if the worst case will happen.
It’s also being careful about allowing the negative or worrying thoughts and words of others take root in our hearts. Be careful of those who speak fear no matter how it is disguised. Fear and worry sometimes seem like human common sense.
Worry goes and looks for trouble when today has enough of its own. Faith lets tomorrow stay with God until we end up there and find he’s there waiting.
That means we have a choice to make.
We can choose faith or fear and worry. We can choose to be offended instead of being gracious. We can choose to be defensive or gentle and open. We can choose whether we’re going to view a situation as bad or good, and we can do so before it happens. We can revert to feeding old grudges or allowing them to wither and choosing light and life instead.
Last week, in talking about some of these thoughts with a friend, I said that we have a choice in how we view what’s happening. “What if our approach this year is simply asking if something could be viewed differently?”
This isn’t about some weird New Age visualize name-it-claim-it kind of thing, or a vacuous “think happy thoughts” positive thinking mantra; those are mere polluted counterfeits of real truth at work in God’s economy.
It’s about faith in God put into action in our mind and in our mouth.
We can choose to think and speak according to an understanding that he’s a good God and all good things come from him and everything that happens can and will be ultimately used for our good even if it seems bad at the time. Or, we can choose to curse our lives and thoughts and the work of our hands and the gifts God has given us by refusing to see God’s blessings and Spirit at work. We don’t embrace what’s good and true and of good report, but instead, dwell on a lie about who He is and what He is doing.
If I speak or think that this is going to be a bad day or bad week, it most certainly will be, because I’ve chosen to see every situation in light of that view. If I say I’m not good enough and no one likes me or my work, I will live accordingly, defeated and unable to see anything but as a failure. God can still do wonderful miracles, but what kind of peace might I have had if I had decided to view things from a stance that God is good to his children all the time? He gives us bread, not stones.
Talking like this makes people angry because there are times—I know from experience—that it’s hard to hear such things. In tough moments, it feels like a heartless Sunday-school answer. It feels accusatory to hear someone tell us, when we’re struggling, that maybe part of the problem is our attitude and the words we’re speaking. What comes out of our mouth is what is in our heart.
What must God think to hear us speak out a kind of curse, a kind of accusation, against the things he is doing to fulfill his plan simply because we don’t understand the moment? Even worse is when we almost enjoy holding onto our habits of worry and negativity, where a state of misery and dysfunction has built our identity as a sadsack or victim (see also: whining social media posts). The words that flow out of our mouth are all rooted in fear and anxiety instead of life.
Is thinking like this the result of someone who is so heavenly-minded that they are no earthly good?
Well, do you believe the word of God, or don’t you? Do you take him for what he says, or do you think he needs your help with your future? Do you view God and his promises as a “yes but also,” preferring to add some human strength to the mix because you understand what is tangible?
My strength and control of the things of this earth are severely limited. Why wouldn’t I turn to my Heavenly Father?
Operating in our own strength, including any attempts at trying to prepare perfectly for whatever the future brings, is always going to fail in the long run. We are all one tornado, one meteor, one deadly health calamity, one fire, one disaster of any sort away from best-laid plans in ruins.
I don’t know what tomorrow brings.
Neither do you.
But today, at this moment, I can choose how I’m going to view things, even the scary or painful things. I can live towards hope and peace and generosity rooted in faith, or dwell in fear and worry.
Perhaps, for 2024, you will join my friend and me, as we ask ourselves and each other in those moments of negativity and fear, a simple question: is there another way to view this? Could I see this in a different way?
I apologize for several weeks of radio silence. It has been an interesting time. But I also know God never wastes anything, even hard things, and hope to write more about some of the things he’s been laying on my heart the past month or two. Thank you for joining me on the journey, and for those who financially support my work, I appreciate you. You have been a blessing to me, and I have prayed for you. Thank you for your generosity towards me.
If I may venture to speak for your other readers, we appreciate your prayers. But that works both ways. You mentioned "hospital waiting rooms." By dropping a word or two, not so specific as to compromise anyone's privacy, we could pray for you in a focused kind of way. Something to keep in mind.