Three weeks ago, as this crisis began ramping up in the US, I quickly found myself worrying. Low-grade anxiety has been a constant companion of mine, so I wasn’t surprised by my default response. But the intensity and speed with which my anxiety ramped up mirrored the pace of the escalating crisis, and I knew that, left unchecked, my fear would soon leave me unable to function. Something had to be done, so I returned, as I often have over the years, to Philippians 4.
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:4-7, NIV)
I pulled out my phone and set an alarm for noon each day, and named it simply: Give Thanks.
* * *
When I first encountered this passage, a young college student juggling work and classes and existential life questions, I felt frustrated. “What if I don’t always feel joyful or gentle? Wait, I can’t just will myself not to be anxious! I am praying. And praying. And praying. Where is this promised peace?” I wrestled and wondered and waited, returning to this chapter again and again over months and years, hoping to take hold of the transcendent peace it offered.
Over time, one little phrase began to stand out to me: “with thanksgiving.” Stuck right in the middle of these verses, it seemed to me that this was the pin on which the whole notion hinged. Perhaps this was the practice that would usher in the promise.
Prior to this, my prayers sounded like rehearsed anxiety. “God, I’m worried about this assignment. God, the future is so uncertain - I’m freaking out! Hello, God? You do realize I would like to eventually meet the love of my life, right? Sooner rather than later, please!” There was a definite lack of thanks-giving, and a definite lack of joy and peace. But if I was understanding this passage correctly, gratitude and joy were connected. Maybe instead of bringing God only my fears and concerns, I could bring Him my thanks and praise too. Maybe that would change something.
* * *
A few years later I was newly married, overwhelmed by my first “real” job, and worried every month that despite our best efforts we would not be able to conceive. Life felt heavy, and God felt far. I had this nagging recollection of Philippians 4:6, which in my mind sounded something like: “Stop being anxious! Pray more! And don’t forget to say thank you!” Fortunately, I decided to take another look. I noticed again that there seemed to be a connection between the “prayers with thanksgiving” of verse 6 and the abiding joy and guarding peace that bookended the verse.
It was around that time I was introduced to the work of Ann Voskamp, who, as it turned out, has written an actual book about the connection between thanks and joy. “As long as thanks is possible, then joy is always possible. Joy is always possible….Here in the messy, piercing ache of now, joy might be - unbelievably - possible!” Voskamp wrote (One Thousand Gifts, p. 33). Count the gifts, she encouraged. So I pulled out my journal and started counting:
1 - My name, Pure One, which continues to teach me new things about myself and my God.
2 - Glitter filled balloons and being surrounded by friends to ring in a new year.
169 - A breakfast smoothie
170 - Kitchen kisses
276 - BFP [big fat positive] yesterday - ohmygosh!
277 - Sheriffe’s reaction today - so precious!
* * *
Fast-forward again and I am now in the thick of motherhood - two toddlers at home, a third on the way. The news of a third boy brings me to full-blown panic. I am already struggling with just two - how will I survive a third? Questions swirl and tears fall as I wrestle with reality.
Reality is my daily interactions with my family are not characterized by gentleness - I am far too often irritable and angry. Peace is elusive, at best, and gratitude has (once again) disappeared from my vocabulary. Still, from the midst of my internal chaos, a refrain begins to echo: “The Lord is near."
I am terrified I’m failing at this motherhood gig.
The Lord is near.
I'm scared I’ll never feel like a human person again.
The Lord is near.
I think you made a big mistake God.
The Lord is near.
My heart is so weak that any thanks I give seems hollow. Nevertheless, the Lord is near.
We name our third son John: God’s gracious gift.
* * *
Which brings us back to now, to the alarm on my phone: Give Thanks.
Now, in the midst of a global pandemic, my natural inclination is still to rehearse my fears. But I know from experience where that leads, and I know from experience there’s a better way. Philippians 4 has become an anchor for me, offering new grace each time I have revisited it over the years.
In this season, I’m finding myself encouraged and challenged by verse 8, the “think on these things” verse. Instead of rehearsing fear, could I rehearse truth? How can I daily “Set my mind on things above,” as Paul encourages the Colossians (Col. 3:2)?
So I set an alarm, and every day at noon our whole family stops to count gifts. “I’m thankful for playing in the dirt outside!” my oldest exclaims. My middle chimes in: “I’m thankful for cheese sticks!” “What are you thankful for Mommy?” they ask, expectantly.
And so we keep counting, daily tuning our hearts to the grace of God, and moment by moment taking hold of the promise that, as Paul writes in Philippians 4:9, “The God of peace will be with you.”
Kayla and her husband, Sheriffe, have been married for 8 years and have attended Lake Baldwin Church for just over four years. Together they have three boys, Josiah (5), Jude (3), and Asa (1). Yes - their hands are full - in the best way!
Kayla enjoys being a (mostly) stay-at-home mom, and working part-time with SPLASH. For fun, Kayla likes to read, write, and craft (she’s tried everything from coloring to quilting)! Things that are saving her life right now: waking up before the kids, getting outside every day, and grocery delivery. She also loves to connect with people, and can talk all day about being a #boymom, an Enneagram 9, and a recovering perfectionist.
Our own stories are powerful, and even more so once shared. As Fred Rogers put it, "never underestimate the impact that your mere existence can have on another human being."
Here with Voices, you'll have the chance to read stories from various members of our church family, each chronicling what it feels and looks like now that so many things have changed. If you’d like to comment or learn more about this series, you can reach out to us at hello@lakebaldwinchurch.com.