Philippians 4:6–7, Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Don’t be anxious about anything. Rejoice in the Lord always. This God not only holds out peace in every uncertain circumstance, but with that peace, he holds out joy — an always joy. Can you bear to believe that? Do you believe that the God of infinite strength and worth is able not only to still the raging storms in your mind but also to place a blazing lantern of joy in the darkness of your boat? Do you believe that the God who daily caters for 120 million cardinals and tailors the brilliant petals of billions of tulips might be able to find and satisfy you in this valley?
“One way God proves his glory in the universe is by holding and satisfying his people through terrible uncertainties.”
You probably know someone who has survived horrible uncertainty with surprising joy. Who’s been one of those joy-in-anxiety miracles in your life? When you think of him or her, you likely don’t see the bright, lighthearted face we often picture when we think of joy. No, joy in the valley of uncertainty is often a heavier, more serious kind of gladness. It’s not the joy of a five-year-old learning to ride a bike (I love that joy too). It’s more, I imagine, like the joy of a soldier finally getting the upper hand in a fierce battle, with his closest friends at his shoulder.
There’s a joy buried in every season of uncertainty, even on battlefields. That’s why Paul can say, “Rejoice in the Lord always” — and then repeat himself: “again I will say, rejoice.”
So, is joy possible in anxiety? Is your anxiety beyond the scope of God’s “always”? One way God proves his glory in the universe is by holding and satisfying his people through terrible uncertainties. And there’s no uncertainty too great for him — not even yours.
We need to remember that Paul wrote these verses from the shadows of prison — and he knew he might not make it out this time (Philippians 1:20). His worry was death. When he wrote, “Do not be anxious about anything” and “Rejoice always,” he wasn’t printing pithy Christianese slogans from a place of comfort and security. If any of us has reasons to be anxious, he had more.
And yet right there — in the injustice of prison, in the hostility of persecution, at the very doorstep of death — he could rejoice because he always had more reasons to rejoice than he had to worry. He could say, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8).
If he could rejoice even then, can’t you rejoice even now? (Segal)
