
Our family has been through quite a lot in the past six months. We've launched a book, walked through a health emergency that shook us—complete with a life flight, packed up and moved out of our home of 15 years, moved into a multi-generational home with Amanda's parents and brother, hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas, finished writing the study guide to our book, and recorded video sessions for it. Add to that David’s annual work review, traveling to attend and speak at conferences, juggling meetings with our contractor about the house remodel, and, oh yes, parenting our kiddos! At times,, the weight of it all felt immense. I won’t pretend it’s been easy. It's been hard, overwhelming at times. But through the chaos and exhaustion, God’s goodness has been so, so evident. In every moment—good and hard—He has been right there, anchoring us.
In His divine providence, before this season kicked into overdrive, Jesus revealed something precious to me in Philippians 4. You see, I used to read Philippians 4:6-7 strictly as a command, almost like a rule to follow: "Do not be anxious about anything." (Fun fact: these were actually the first verses Ezra memorized at just over 2 years old!) But if I’m honest, I’ve struggled with these words many times. It's easy enough to recite "don't be anxious," but living that out in certain seasons? It can feel impossible. And when I couldn’t seem to shake my anxiety, shame would creep in, whispering: "You're disobeying God." or "Good Christian women don’t struggle with anxiety." I carried that weight for a long time.
But recently, I wondered—what if it’s not just a command to ‘do better’ about worrying? What if, instead of hearing these verses through a lens of do better, try harder, I could see them through a lens of grace? A few weeks before the madness hit, I Philippians 4:6-7 with fresh eyes—through the eyes of Jesus. And that’s when I noticed the four words that precede the famous instruction: “The Lord is near.”
That’s when it hit me: what if we’ve been reading these verses all wrong? What if, instead of an impossible-to-keep command, they are actually a hopeful encouragement? You know how we comfort our children with words like, "Shhh, I’m here. I've got you. It’s going to be okay"? What if Paul is doing the same? What if he’s telling us, “You don’t have to carry the weight of the world because the Lord is near. He’s holding you.”
Those four words—"The Lord is near"—change everything. They frame the entire message of Philippians 4:6-7, turning it into a lifeline of peace, not a list of rules. Jesus, our Emmanuel—God with us—is near, always. His Spirit still abides with us, calming our hearts when life feels anything but peaceful.
As I look ahead, there are still plenty of things on the horizon. There’s a lot to navigate, and honestly, some anxious thoughts are sure to arise. But in the midst of it all, I remember: the Lord is near. He’s that non-anxious presence, right beside me, ready to calm the storm within, even if the storms of life keep swirling around me. And that truth gives me so much hope.
This idea of Jesus being our peace, even when our circumstances aren’t peaceful, is something David and I explore in our book, The Flourishing Family. It's a key part of how we can parent from a place of calm, even in the chaos of life.
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