Philippians 4:9

Rejoice in the Lord always; I will say it again: Rejoice. Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Don't worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4–7)

How do we find joy in hard times? Not through mastery of our circumstances, but through confidence in what God has promised.

Approaching With Confidence, Not Mastery

Today I want to approach with confidence the things the Lord has laid out in His Word for how we have joy in difficult circumstances. I will have confidence in what He tells us, confidence in His promises, confidence that He will do exactly what He says He will do. But do not mistake any of this for mastery on my part. I am not coming before you as someone who is the guru or the expert in all these things. I am coming to share what God has told us and how God has laid these things out for us.

A Command, Not a Suggestion

"Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice." When we face difficult circumstances, it sometimes feels like rejoicing is optional, but it is not presented that way in Scripture. This is a command, not a suggestion. And when God gives us a command—anywhere in the Bible—we trust Him that it is possible. That doesn't mean it is easy, but we know two things in particular: the command is given for our good, and it is given because He loves us. God doesn't command things just to annoy us or break us. God's commands are given for our good and because He loves us.

When something is repeated in Scripture, it is repeated for the same reason we repeat things for our own children. I'll often look at my youngest and say, "I want you to do this." Then I'll ask, "What did I just say?" "I don't know." So I say it again. God does the same for us. When there's a tendency for us to miss something, He repeats it: "Rejoice in the Lord always; I will say it again, rejoice."

The Lord Is Near—Let Your Graciousness Be Known

"Let your graciousness be known to everyone. The Lord is near." When we deal with difficult circumstances, we tend to feel like God is far off, but Scripture tells us God is near. When things are going well, we tend to forget Him entirely and say, "Life is good." But in times of tragedy, difficult diagnosis, and hard seasons, that's when we most need to know He is near. Proverbs 34:18 says God is near to the brokenhearted.

How will people know our graciousness? First, we have to be gracious in a way that is noticeable—and for it to be noticeable, people have to see it. We tend, in difficult times, to pull back, isolate, and lick our wounds. Don't do that. There are times you simply can't be around people, and that's understandable, but you cannot be isolated all the time.

I audited a class at Yale on the science of happiness. One thing that stuck out: when we try to decide what will make us happy, we are overwhelmingly wrong. We want to isolate when what brings us joy is community. We want to be alone when what brings us comfort is the presence of others. So don't isolate, and remember that we're terrible at knowing what's best for us. Look to the Word instead.

Genuine Graciousness, Not False Platitudes

People also need to know our graciousness is genuine. False platitudes and an imitation sunny demeanor help nobody. If your circumstances stink, just say so. "You know what? This is awful. I hate this. But Jesus loves me." Those two things can coexist. We can be upset with our circumstances and love Jesus.

Jesus himself showed us this on the night He went to the cross. In the garden He was stressed to the point of sweating drops of blood, and He prayed, "Lord, if there is any other way, let this cup pass from me. But not my will, but yours be done." That is what it means to be gracious in these things.

Don't Worry—and What to Do With the Worry

Then He says the simplest thing for all of us to follow, one we're all masters of: "Don't worry." If only it were as simple as Bobby McFerrin made it sound. "Don't worry, be happy"—thanks, Bobby, that solved all my problems. The call to not worry is, again, a command, which means it's for our good and because God loves us. But it's not intuitive or instinctual. Our normal state is to worry; we are a people of worriers.

So what do we do with the worry? The fantastic part about Scripture is that when it asks something that seems unreasonable, it often gives us the reasonable way to tackle it. "In everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."

Through prayer, we tell God about it: "God, this is my situation. I know You know, but I need to say it. This is terrible." Then petition: "Lord, could You please change this? I am begging You—please." We ask God to remove it or change it. Then thanksgiving, which is deeply counterintuitive: "Lord, I'm going to thank You for this situation. I'm going to thank You that You love me and that You are with me. And if I'm going to get really radical, Lord, I thank You that I have the opportunity to learn from You as I go through this." We show gratitude even when it makes no earthly sense.

Then we bring our worries to God and leave them with Him. This is not a one-time thing. If you're anything like me, it takes about four seconds before I've picked it back up. It becomes a cycle: "Lord, I'm going to give this to You. I don't want it. Please take it." Over and over and over.

The Peace of God That Surpasses Understanding

Then "the peace of God will guard your hearts and minds." It's not our own peace or a made-up peace—it's the peace of God. It's the peace of knowing God is at work in my life, that He knows what's best for me and loves me, and that everything I'm worrying about is in His hands anyway. The peace that "surpasses understanding" is a nice scriptural way of saying it makes no sense at all. I have seen people in extreme trials with peace, and you think, "How in the world are you at peace right now?" It passes understanding because we were never given the burden of understanding. Back in the garden, God asked Adam and Eve for obedience, not understanding.

The peace of God keeps us from utter heartache and keeps our minds from chasing deadly rabbits. When we face hard things, we start trying to figure a way out. If it's a health thing, we turn to Dr. Google and find out the pain in our pinky toe means we're dead. I'm speaking prophetically here, because I know it's me. I need to step back, stop trying to figure it out, and trust that God will guard my heart and mind—but I have to let Him. "The peace of God will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." This is where the peace is found, where the ability to not worry is found, because we are hiding ourselves in Jesus, leaning into Him, pressing into Him, enveloping ourselves in Him.

Dwell in the Whatevers

Still we're left asking, "Lord, how am I supposed to pull this off?" Almost as if the Holy Spirit knew this would be difficult, God placed verse 8 after verse 7:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable—if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy—dwell on these things. (Philippians 4:8)

Dwell in the whatevers. And be careful with that word—this is not the teenager's "whatever."

Whatever is true. To dwell on what's true, we must fight the lies. Lies from the enemy, who wants to send our minds elsewhere. Lies from well-wishers, who offer wisdom contrary to God's. And the most insidious lies—the ones from ourselves. We are the most effective liars we'll ever meet. We supply the lies that make us feel better, so watch those carefully.

Whatever is honorable—is this worthy of respect? Does it bring honor to the Lord and His people? Whatever is just—is it innocent, holy, righteous? Does what I'm thinking unjustly impugn God or others? We tend, in hard times, to look at others and think, "Why is their life so easy?" That's not just; I won't let my mind dwell there.

Whatever is pure—chaste, modest, clean, free from fault. When we're hurting and tired, our flesh wants to supply something to make us feel better, and unless you're a much better Christian than I am, it's usually not godly. We turn to Ben & Jerry's instead of Jesus—or to things we look at that we shouldn't, things we say that we shouldn't, drugs, drink. Our flesh supplies all kinds of things that ultimately don't help. The problem is still there, and now I feel sick.

Whatever is lovely—does this make loving God and His people easier or harder? Whatever is commendable—the word means kindhearted. Am I being kind toward others and toward myself? If there is any moral excellence—is the way I'm thinking virtuous, leading me closer to God or further away? If there is anything praiseworthy—am I choosing to praise God in these circumstances? "Lord, I don't understand it, I don't like it, I don't want it, but I'm going to praise You through it."

This is a tall order, and it's not a one-time fix. We will leave the place we're supposed to dwell and visit places that aren't good for us. Make the visit short and get back to dwelling in the whatevers. And give yourself grace—offer yourself and others the same grace God has offered you.

Consider It Great Joy

Consider it great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing. Now if any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given to him. (James 1:2–5)

"Consider" is an accounting term—when you face trials, put them in the joy column. Again, God asks something difficult that requires His help. We may never reach the point of saying, "Lord, thank You that I get to face this," but that's the goal: "Thank You for the privilege of walking with You through this."

He says "brothers and sisters"—we will all face trials. And remember, a trial doesn't have to seem significant to me to be significant to someone else. I learned this in youth ministry. A junior higher goes through a devastating breakup and you think, "Dude, you're ten, there was never a future here." But in their life, that's the most devastating thing they've faced. It doesn't have to be devastating to me for it to be devastating to them.

Testing Produces Endurance

"Because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance." We know this because Scripture reveals it and because we see the pattern throughout creation. Consider high school boys—one of their great motivations is high school girls. Like the males of many species (male goats even urinate on themselves to seem attractive), the high school boy will "get his pump on," do a few push-ups, and come out flexing. We all want muscles, but few want to do the work to build them. You don't build muscle without exercise, and you don't build endurance without testing.

Every trial, great and small, is an opportunity to reveal where our faith is. Can I trust God in this, because of this, in spite of this? When our faith is tested, it produces endurance—just as few people run a marathon without training.

Let Endurance Have Its Full Effect

"Let endurance have its full effect." That word let blew me away. We have the option to let endurance work or not. We can grow through it or crumble. The trials we face can be instructive or destructive—I can learn through it or be broken by it, and sometimes both happen at once. But if we choose to see our trial as instructive, God will use it constructively, building us into people who look more like Him.

The point: "so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing." God's purpose in trials is that we become mature, complete, and whole. Our trial will either break us or build us—and sometimes it builds us by breaking us.

Ask God for Wisdom

When we say, "Lord, I don't understand how I can consider this joy or let endurance have its effect," the Holy Spirit lovingly adds the next verse: "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly." In the trial we may not understand why this is happening, how we can endure, or what will happen to those we love. The answers—even to questions we don't yet realize we're asking—are found in the wisdom God gives. He's not stingy; He gives generously and a ton of it.

Where do we find that wisdom? Resident in the Word of God. As we spend time in the Word, God reveals more of Himself and takes us to greater depths through trials. I know there are times it's hard to read—the eyes are tired, the head is pounding. But we live in a magnificent time: on my phone I can listen to hundreds of Bible translations. Try listening sometime instead of reading. Something different happens. When I just listen, I'm not asking how to tear it apart; I'm simply sitting and receiving. It's great to fall asleep to His voice and wake up to His Word. He flat-out tells us where the wisdom is—"Come to Me and I will give it to you generously"—but we have to make the choice to come.

Affliction Produces Hope

And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope will not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. (Romans 5)

The purpose of trials is to build endurance and stamina, to develop proven character so we are mature and complete, to strengthen our faith, and to produce hope. Hope is amazing and incredibly powerful—it defies logic and reason.

There was a study in the 1930s—horrific by today's standards, but the results were astonishing. A researcher dropped rats into containers of water and charted how long they could swim; the average was about 15 minutes. But when he rescued some, dried them off, resuscitated them, and then put them back in, they swam for 60 hours. That is the difference of hope. When we know there is a rescue, when we know our Savior is there, hope leads us to do absolutely insane things. And "this hope will not disappoint us." We will never be hurt by hoping, because God's love is poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. Hope can take us to the place where we boast in our affliction.

Practical Applications

First, reframe challenges as opportunities. On Monday I asked the Lord what we'd talk about this week, and the answer was "joy." By Tuesday, when everything came to light, I asked again—and He said, "We're teaching joy." That same Monday I started keeping a growth and gratitude journal on my phone. Every time I get in my car, it reminds me, and I write down at least three things I'm grateful for and one thing I'm learning. It's like a stone of remembrance.

Second, reframe your self-talk—replace complaints with prayer and praise. When tempted to complain, substitute the whatevers of Philippians 4:8.

Third, during tough times set small, achievable goals. When things are hard is not the time to say, "I'm going to read the Bible in a year." Set something achievable: "Lord, I'm going to read one chapter or one verse tomorrow," and build from there.

Forgetting What Is Behind, Reaching Forward

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God's heavenly call in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13–14)

Paul says he hasn't made it, but he knows one thing—forgetting what is behind. What is behind? Past hurts where we need to forgive others. Past failures where we need to forgive ourselves. Past patterns and history we've engaged in. We leave those things there and reach forward. "Reaching" means intentionally striving toward; I'll do whatever I can to go forward.

But have you ever tried to go forward while looking backward? One of my sons—stubborn like the rest of us—was in trouble, angry, and stormed off yelling, and walked the side of his head right into the wall. If we're looking backward, we won't be good at reaching forward. As we reach forward to what is ahead, we don't get to choose our future, but we do get to choose how we face it.

The Prize and the Crown

What we're reaching toward is God's heavenly call in Christ Jesus—a call to be restored to a right relationship with God, to be righteous in His sight. And the prize is a promise, not a maybe. It is heavenly, likely beyond our understanding, and we are called to pursue it, chase it, and go after it no matter what.

A closing thought from 2 Timothy 4:8. Paul, writing to his young protégé near the very end of his life, says:

Finally, there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on that Day—and not only to me but also to all who have loved His appearing. (2 Timothy 4:8)

That call in Christ Jesus, that prize Paul strives for, is the crown of righteousness given to those who love the appearing of Jesus. Let's be those people.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, as I look at Your Word, the things You've laid out are clear—right there in black and white, or red and white, laid out before us. And yet they are not easy; they are not what comes natural to us, not our default. Sometimes things just seem overwhelming. I pray You would give us wisdom, that You would help us count it all joy, help us reach forward and forget what's behind. Help us deal with the situations we're in. Give us joy.

For those struggling today, those facing difficulty—the Childers and Hatch family, Sharon Moody and her daughter Heather and her family, the Katona family, and those struggling whom we're unaware of yet—I pray You would give each of them supernatural strength, that wisdom and peace that surpass understanding, that You would bring comfort and healing, and make Yourself known to them and through them to us even more. Lord Jesus, we lift You up in Your presence. Amen.