Finding Calm in a Chaotic World

By Max Lucado

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Anxiety is a meteor shower of what-ifs. What if I don’t close the sale? What if we don’t get the bonus? What if we can’t afford braces for the kids? What if my kids have crooked teeth? What if crooked teeth keep them from having friends, a career, or a spouse? What if they end up homeless and hungry, holding a cardboard sign that reads “My parents couldn’t afford braces for me”?

Anxiety is trepidation.

It’s a suspicion, an apprehension. Life in a minor key with major concerns. Perpetually on the pirate ship’s plank.

You’re part Chicken Little and part Eeyore. The sky is falling, and it’s falling disproportionately on you. 

As a result you are anxious. A free-floating sense of dread hovers over you, a caul across the heart, a nebulous hunch about things . . . that might happen . . . sometime in the future. Anxiety and fear are cousins but not twins. Fear sees a threat. Anxiety imagines one. 

Fear screams, Get out! 

Anxiety ponders, What if? 

Fear results in fight or flight. Anxiety creates doom and gloom. 

Fear is the pulse that pounds when you see a coiled rattlesnake in your front yard. 

Anxiety is the voice that tells you, Never, ever, for the rest of your life, walk barefooted through the grass. There might be a snake . . . somewhere. 

The word anxious defines itself. It is a hybrid of angst and xious. Angst is a sense of unease. Xious is the sound I make on the tenth step of a flight of stairs when my heart beats fast and I run low on oxygen. I can be heard inhaling and exhaling, sounding like the second syllable of anxious, which makes me wonder if anxious people aren’t just that: people who are out of breath because of the angst of life.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 1)

We are tense. 

Why? What is the cause of our anxiety? 

Change, for one thing. Researchers speculate that the Western world’s “environment and social order have changed more in the last thirty years than they have in the previous three hundred”! Think what has changed. Technology. The existence of the Internet. Increased warnings about global warming, nuclear war, and terrorist attacks. Changes and new threats are imported into our lives every few seconds thanks to smartphones, TVs, and computer screens. In our grandparents’ generation news of an earthquake in Nepal would reach around the world some days later. In our parents’ day the nightly news communicated the catastrophe. Now it is a matter of minutes. We’ve barely processed one crisis, and then we hear of another.

In addition we move faster than ever before. Our ancestors traveled as far as a horse or camel could take them during daylight. But us? We jet through time zones as if they were neighborhood streets. Our greatgrandparents had to turn down the brain sensors when the sun set. But us? We turn on the cable news, open the laptop, or tune in to the latest survival show. For years I kept a nightly appointment with the ten o’clock news. Nothing like falling to sleep with the accounts of murders and catastrophes fresh on the brain.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 1)

One would think Christians would be exempt from worry. But we are not. We have been taught that the Christian life is a life of peace, and when we don’t have peace, we assume the problem lies within us. Not only do we feel anxious, but we also feel guilty about our anxiety! The result is a downward spiral of worry, guilt, worry, guilt. 

It’s enough to cause a person to get anxious. 

It’s enough to make us wonder if the apostle Paul was out of touch with reality when he wrote, “Be anxious for nothing” (Phil. 4:6). 

“Be anxious for less” would have been a sufficient challenge. Or “Be anxious only on Thursdays.” Or “Be anxious only in seasons of severe affliction.” 

But Paul doesn’t seem to offer any leeway here. Be anxious for nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Is this what he meant? Not exactly. He wrote the phrase in the present active tense, which implies an ongoing state. It’s the life of perpetual anxiety that Paul wanted to address. The Lucado Revised Translation reads, “Don’t let anything in life leave you perpetually breathless and in angst.” The presence of anxiety is unavoidable, but the prison of anxiety is optional.

Anxiety is not a sin; it is an emotion. (So don’t be anxious about feeling anxious.) Anxiety can, however, lead to sinful behavior. When we numb our fears with six-packs or food binges, when we spew anger like Krakatau, when we peddle our fears to anyone who will buy them, we are sinning. If toxic anxiety leads you to abandon your spouse, neglect your kids, break covenants, or break hearts, take heed. Jesus gave this word: “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with  .  .  . the anxieties of life” (Luke 21:34 NIV). Is your heart weighed down with worry? Look for these signals: 

• Are you laughing less than you once did? 
• Do you see problems in every promise? 
• Would those who know you best describe you as increasingly negative and critical? 
• Do you assume that something bad is going to happen? 
• Do you dilute and downplay good news with doses of your version of reality? 
• Many days would you rather stay in bed than get up? 
• Do you magnify the negative and dismiss the positive? 
• Given the chance, would you avoid any interaction with humanity for the rest of your life?

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 1)

Celebrate. Ask. Leave. Meditate. C.A.L.M. 

Could you use some calm? If so, you aren’t alone. The Bible is Kindle’s most highlighted book. And Philippians 4:6–7 is the most highlighted passage. Apparently we all could use a word of comfort.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 1)

Belief always precedes behavior. For this reason the apostle Paul in each of his epistles addressed convictions before he addressed actions. To change the way a person responds to life, change what a person believes about life. The most important thing about you is your belief system.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 2)

Sovereignty is the term the Bible uses to describe God’s perfect control and management of the universe. He preserves and governs every element. He is continually involved with all created things, directing them to act in a way that fulfills his divine purpose.

In the treatment of anxiety, a proper understanding of sovereignty is huge. Anxiety is often the consequence of perceived chaos. If we sense we are victims of unseen, turbulent, random forces, we are troubled.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 2)

Psychologists verified this fact when they studied the impact of combat on soldiers in World War II. They determined that after sixty days of continuous combat the ground troops became “emotionally dead.” This reaction is understandable. Soldiers endured a constant threat of bomb blitzes, machine guns, and enemy snipers. The anxiety of ground troops was no surprise. 

The comparative calm of fighter pilots, however, was. Their mortality rate was among the highest in combat. Fifty percent of them were killed in action, yet dogfighters loved their work. An astounding 93 percent of them claimed to be happy in their assignments even though the odds of survival were the same as the toss of a coin.

What made the difference? Those pilots had their hands on the throttle. They sat in the cockpit. They felt that their fate was theirs to determine. Infantrymen, by contrast, could just as easily be killed standing still or running away. They felt forlorn and helpless. The formula is simple: Perceived control creates calm. Lack of control gives birth to fear.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 2)

Anxiety increases as perceived control diminishes.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 2)

Anxiety passes as trust increases. In another Scripture, Jeremiah draws a direct connection between faith and peace. 

Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, 
And whose hope is the LORD. 
For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, 
Which spreads out its roots by the river, 
And will not fear when heat comes; 
But its leaf will be green, 
And will not be anxious in the year of drought. (Jer. 17:7–8, emphasis mine)

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 2)

Limited anxiety is helpful. We need to be alerted to danger. What we don’t need is to live in a state of high alert.

Here is why. God created our brains to replenish themselves with natural mood elevators and tranquilizers like dopamine and serotonin. These restore joy and peace. But if the amygdalae never stop, the natural tranquilizers never have an opportunity to do their work. The brain never resets. We become edgy, unsettled, and restless. That is the bad news. The good news is this: God can calm our amygdalae! And he may very well use the words of the apostle Paul to do so.

Paul urges us to “rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil. 4:4, emphasis mine). Not just on paydays, Fridays, good days, or birthdays. But rejoice in the Lord always. 

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 4)

Years later Joseph would tell his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children” (Gen. 50:20–21 NIV). Two words at the heart of this passage reveal the heart of providential hope: but God. “You intended to harm me, but God .  .  .” What was intended as harm became good. Why? Because Joseph kept God in the middle of his circumstance.

Joseph viewed the sufferings of his life through the lens of divine providence. Can I urge you to do the same? If you don’t, anxiety will stalk you every day of your life. Quite honestly, I have no words to counter the stress of the atheist or agnostic. What alleviates their anxiety? Yoga? Deep-breathing exercises? Stress-relief candles? Seems like going to a joust with a toothpick.

God’s sovereignty, on the other hand, bids us to fight the onslaught of fret with the sword that is etched with the words but God.

The company is downsizing, but God is still sovereign.

The cancer is back, but God still occupies the throne.

I was a jerk during the first years of my marriage, but God showed me how to lead a family.

I was an anxious, troubled soul, but God has been giving me courage.

The brothers had every intention to harm Joseph. But God, in his providence, used their intended evil for ultimate good. He never robbed the brothers of their free will. He never imposed his nature upon them. But neither did he allow their sin and their sin nature to rule the day. He rerouted evil into good. God uses all things to bring about his purpose. He will not be deterred in his plan to sustain and carry creation to its intended glory.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 4)

Horatio Spafford wrote the lyrics, never imagining they would become the words to one of the world’s best-loved hymns. Spafford was a prosperous lawyer and Presbyterian Church elder. In 1871 he and his wife, Anna, suffered tragic losses in the Chicago fire. In November of 1873, Anna and their children set sail for Europe with a group of friends. Horatio stayed home to take care of some business. On December 2 he received a telegram from his wife that began “Saved alone. What shall I do?” He soon learned that the ship had collided with a British vessel and had sunk. Their four daughters drowned and Anna survived. He left for England to bring Anna back home. En route, while sailing on the ship, he wrote the lyrics to a song that would become an anthem to the providence of God.

He and Anna eventually moved to Jerusalem to form a Christian society designed to minister to the needs of all people. In time the group expanded and moved into a large house outside the city walls. The house became a hostel, then a hotel. It still stands, and it still serves as the display location for these words written by a grief-stricken man on a storm-tossed sea.

“It Is Well with My Soul”
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, 
When sorrows like sea billows roll; 
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, 
It is well, it is well, with my soul. 

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, 
Let this blest assurance control, 
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, 
And hath shed His own blood for my soul. 

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! 
My sin, not in part but the whole, 
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, 
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! 

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, 
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; 
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, 
Even so, it is well with my soul. 

It is well, with my soul, 
It is well, with my soul, 
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 4)

Because the Lord is near, we can be anxious for nothing. This is Paul’s point. Remember, he was writing a letter. He did not use chapter and verse numbers. This system was created by scholars in the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries. The structure helps us, but it can also hinder us. The apostle intended the words of verses 5 and 6 to be read in one fell swoop. “The Lord is near; [consequently,] do not be anxious about anything.” Early commentators saw this. John Chrysostom liked to phrase the verse this way: “The Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety.” Theodoret of Cyrus translated the words: “The Lord is near. Have no worries.”

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 5)

If so, then we’ve traced your anxiety back to one of its sources. You’re in a hurry to cross the river and worried that you never will. Consequently, you work long hours, borrow more money, take on new projects, and pile on more responsibilities. Stress. Debt. Short nights. Long days. All part of the cost of the ticket to the land of the good life, right?

Not exactly, opined the apostle Paul. The good life begins, not when circumstances change, but when our attitude toward them does. Look again at his antidote for anxiety. “Be anxious for nothing, 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 minds through Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6–7).

Paul embedded in the verses two essential words that deserve special attention: with thanksgiving. Sprinkled among your phrases “Help me . . . ,” “Please give me . . . ,” “Won’t you show me . . .” should be two wonderful words: Thank you.

Gratitude is a mindful awareness of the benefits of life. It is the greatest of virtues. Studies have linked the emotion with a variety of positive effects. Grateful people tend to be more empathetic and forgiving of others. People who keep a gratitude journal are more likely to have a positive outlook on life. Grateful individuals demonstrate less envy, materialism, and self-centeredness. Gratitude improves self-esteem and enhances relationships, quality of sleep, and longevity.  If it came in pill form, gratitude would be deemed the miracle cure. It’s no wonder, then, that God’s anxiety therapy includes a large, delightful dollop of gratitude.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 7)

Your problem is not your problem but the way you see it.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 9)

We Christians tend to miss this. We banter about pledges to “change the world,” “make a difference for Christ,” “lead people to the Lord.” Yet these are by-products of the Christ-focused life. Our goal is not to bear fruit. Our goal is to stay attached.

(Lucado 2017, Chapter 9)

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References

Lucado, Max. 2017. Anxious for Nothing: Finding Calm in a Chaotic World. N.p.: Thomas Nelson.

ISBN  9780718096441