Tag: stress

Are you Sure you Got This?

Are you Sure you Got This?

Friends, we live in a culture that relentlessly celebrates the self-made person. From every podcast and billboard, the message is the same: “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” “Trust your gut,” and “You are your own hero.” This mindset, which emphasizes personal strength, control, and achievement above all else, feels like the air we breathe. It tells us that success, stability, and even happiness are entirely dependent on our hustle, our cleverness, and our capacity to manage every crisis.

But what if this powerful drive to be our own savior is, in fact, the greatest spiritual trap?

When we turn to the Scriptures, we find a story that sounds a profound and powerful warning against this very mindset—a story about a man who had everything—God’s anointing, charisma, military might—but lost it all because he chose to rely on himself instead of his God. That man was King Saul.

Saul began his reign with incredible potential, humble and strong. Yet, his ending was tragic, marked by paranoia, bitterness, and destruction. And it all began when he decided he knew better than God. His narrative is not just an ancient history lesson; it’s a timeless mirror for our own souls, showing us the dangerous allure and devastating consequence of trying to be our own savior. It’s a message of ultimate importance for anyone seeking true peace and lasting reliance.

The Warning: The Instant Folly of Self-Reliance

Saul’s spiritual downfall wasn’t a sudden, cataclysmic event; it was a slow, subtle surrender to pressure. His first majoract of disobedience, recorded in 1 Samuel 13, perfectly illustrates how self-reliance kicks in at the moment we feel most vulnerable. This story challenges us to recognize the precise moment we attempt to step into God’s role, exchanging faith for frantic action.

The Pressure Point: Fear Over Faith (1 Samuel 13:5-14)

Imagine the scene: Saul and his men are trapped in a geopolitical pressure cooker. The Philistines, a powerful and intimidating enemy, are massed in Michmash, their numbers described as being “like the sand which is on the seashore in multitude.” Saul was commanded by the prophet Samuel to wait seven days for him to arrive and offer a sacrifice to consecrate the army for battle. This was God’s specific, explicit instruction: wait for Me.

But as the days dragged on, the waiting became unbearable. The soldiers, gripped by terror, began to scatter and desert Saul’s camp. Saul looked at his dwindling resources, felt the terrifying weight of imminent collapse, and panicked. He thought, “I have to do something, or I’ll lose everything.”

The action that followed—Saul performing the priestly duty himself—was the birth of his self-reliance. He put his perceived urgent need (preserving his army and his kingdom) above God’s explicit patient command (waiting).

This is the lesson for us: Self-reliance kicks in when we feel we have to control an outcome. It’s the whisper in your mind during a financial crisis that says, “God isn’t moving fast enough; you handle this by cutting corners.” It’s the impulse when a relationship is rocky to manipulate or control the other person because you can’t trust the timing of healing or reconciliation. We exchange the powerful peace of faith for the futility and exhaustion of our own frantic action. We confuse our human deadline with God’s perfect timing. Saul’s error was believing that his immediate action could generate better results than God’s intervention.

The Deeper Cost: Disobedience Masquerading as Piety

When Samuel finally arrived and confronted Saul, Saul’s response wasn’t a humble apology; it was a complex rationalization. He essentially argued that his disobedience was a necessary good.

“I saw that the people were scattered from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines gathered themselves together at Michmash, I forced myself therefore, and offered a burnt offering” (1 Samuel 13:11-12, adapted).

Saul dressed up his blatant disobedience as a necessary religious act, trying to “compel myself to offer the burnt offering.” He tried to sanctify his frantic need for control by calling it piety. This is the deeper cost of self-reliance.

When we rely on self, we invariably rationalize our sin. We lie to ourselves: “I have to fudge these numbers to save my business.” “I have to lash out and control my children because they’ll fail otherwise.” “I have to keep overworking because God rewards effort, not rest.” We cloak our arrogance of control in the guise of good intentions, necessity, or even faith. We make excuses, but God sees the deeper issue: a lack of trust in His absolute sovereignty. Saul’s kingship was stripped from him not because he missed a date on the calendar, but because his act revealed a heart that had elevated its own judgment above the living God.

The Revelation: God Values Trust Over Talent

Saul’s second major failure, detailed in 1 Samuel 15, revealed a profound and incredibly inspiring truth about what God desires from us. This truth is deeply liberating because it takes the pressure off our performance, our impressive talents, and our personal accomplishments.

The Idol of Partial Obedience (1 Samuel 15)

In this second scenario, God gave Saul a clear, black-and-white command: wage war against the Amalekites and utterly destroy everything—people, livestock, and goods. This was a judgment rooted in history, and the command was absolute.

Saul went, fought, and won. But instead of executing the command fully, he spared Agag, the Amalekite king, and the best of the sheep and cattle. When confronted by Samuel, Saul offered the same tired defense:

“The troops took sheep and oxen, the best of the things devoted to destruction, to sacrifice to the Lord your God in Gilgal” (1 Samuel 15:21).

Saul thought his military success and his “good” idea of a superior sacrifice would compensate for his disobedience. He thought his talent as a general and his generous offering could somehow improve upon God’s will. He substituted God’s command with his own human judgment, relying on his impressive works and resources to cover his lack of simple trust.

The lie here is that partial obedience is just disobedience with a good excuse. By saving the best, Saul was building an idol to his own talent: “I won the war, and now I’ll use my superior wisdom to manage the spoils.” He was attempting to edit the Creator’s script.

The Inspired Priority: “To Obey is Better than Sacrifice”

When Samuel finally confronted Saul, he declared one of the most eternal and powerful truths in Scripture:

“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of divination, and arrogance is as iniquity and idolatry” (1 Samuel 15:22-23).

This passage is a stunning revelation and an incredibly inspiring message for all of us struggling with performance anxiety and self-reliance. It tells us that God doesn’t need our impressive plans, our superior resources, or our self-generated achievements. He doesn’t need your perfect business plan, your massive bank account, or your flawless reputation. He doesn’t need the “best of the sheep” that you stole from His plan.

What God desires is our simple, humble reliance and trust.

It is liberating to know that our greatest gift to God is not a performance we have to strive for, but the simple, beautiful act of obedience—submission to His will. Saul’s talent couldn’t save him from his fate; our quiet, daily obedience can save us from the exhaustion of constantly trying to be better than God. Our performance matters far less than our position of dependence. This shifts the focus from our competence to God’s, and that is where true peace lies.

The Path Forward: Choosing Dependence Over Dominance

The story of Saul doesn’t have to be our story. The opposite of self-reliance isn’t weakness; it’s a powerful, liberating dependence that leads to true, sustainable strength.

The Remedy for Arrogance: Humility

Samuel called Saul’s rebellion a sin like “arrogance like the evil of idolatry” (1 Samuel 15:23). Why is self-reliance likened to idolatry? Because when we rely solely on self, we effectively make ourselves the idol. We transfer the attributes of omnipresence, omniscience, and omnipotence from God to our own capacity for control. We believe we are the source, the resource, and the ultimate savior of our own lives. This is spiritual narcissism.

The path out of this spiritual dead-end is not a path of greater striving, but a path of radical surrender. It is the simple, honest, and profoundly encouraging acknowledgment that “I can’t. I don’t know. I’m not enough. But God can.” This acknowledgement is not weakness; it is the genesis of all true power. Humility is simply accepting your role as the dependent creature and resting in the knowledge of the all-sufficient Creator. It’s the ultimate step out of exhaustion and into freedom.

Trusting God’s Provision, Not Our Plan

Saul’s mistake was constantly believing his resources—his army, his judgment, his stolen cattle—were his source of power. He was always looking inward or outward to his possessions, never upward to his Provider.

When we feel the pressure to control, to manipulate, or to race ahead of God’s timing, it’s a sign that we’ve forgotten that God is the source of all provision, protection, and wisdom. We don’t have to strive for control over our circumstances; we only have to trust His competence over our own.

This looks like:

  1. Pausing before Acting: When anxiety demands an immediate, frantic response, pause, pray, and ask, “Is this action based on faith or fear?”
  2. Laying Down the Crown: Regularly placing the weight of your worries—finances, relationships, health—at the foot of the cross.
  3. Seeking First: Prioritizing prayer, quiet meditation, and the study of the Scriptures before you prioritize work, endless consumption, or networking.

When we lean into God’s competence, He gives us peace that surpasses understanding and directs our steps toward His perfect, unfailing plan.

A Word from Our Savior

Saul’s tragedy was believing he could manage life better than God. He tried to save his own kingdom through his own efforts, his own disobedience, and his own partial obedience, and he lost it all.

The message for us, the ultimate antidote to the spiritual trap of self-reliance, comes directly from the gentle teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ. Saul’s self-talk was, “I can do it.” Jesus’ invitation to us is a radically different one: “Come to Me.”

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks directly to our worries—the very things that drive our self-reliance: our food, our clothing, our future. He confronts our panicked striving head-on:

“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’… But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you” (Matthew 6:31, 33).

Jesus invites us to lay down the exhausting, fruitless burden of trying to be our own god, our own provider, and our own savior. He calls us to a radical, liberating dependence. The man who truly “has this” isn’t the one running the fastest or controlling the most variables. The one who “has this” is the one who has fully surrendered the desire to control and has simply handed the reins back to the Creator.

Let’s step out of Saul’s shadow and step into the light of Christ’s promise: True strength, true peace, and true provision are found only when we stop trying to do it ourselves and simply trust Him to do it through us.

Minding the Master

Minding the Master

In our rapid-fire, demanding world, it’s easy to get caught up in endless to-do lists, urgent tasks, and the constant clamor for our attention. This relentless pace often leaves us feeling overwhelmed, stressed, and anxious. The 21st century, with its continuous connectivity, information overload, and societal pressures, has seen a significant rise in anxiety. From the gnawing financial and economic fears that keep us up at night, to worries about the future of Social Security benefits, the struggle of underemployment, and the dread of health scares, anxiety has become a pervasive undercurrent in modern life. The unsettling reality of environmental abnormalities and the deeply personal pains of singleness or marital problems can compound this burden, sometimes leading to a profound sense of hopelessness. We often find ourselves busy, but are we busy with the right things, or are we simply trying to outrun our anxieties?

Luke 10:38-42 presents a timeless encounter in the home of Martha and Mary, offering a profound lesson on priorities. Jesus visits their home, and their responses reveal two distinct approaches to His presence, one of which is clearlyburdened by anxiety. This passage challenges us to consider what it truly means to “mind the Master”—to prioritize listening to Jesus above all other good, but lesser, things, especially when the anxieties of life threaten to consume us.

Martha’s Distraction:

Martha’s intentions were not just good; they were rooted in deeply ingrained cultural values. In first-century Jewish society, hospitality (Hebrew: hakhnasat orehim) was not merely good manners but a moral institution and a sacred duty. It was considered a great mitzvah (commandment) and an expression of loving-kindness. Hosts were obligated to provide lavishly for guests, offering food, water for washing dusty feet, and shelter. Abraham, for instance, is a biblical paragon of hospitality, eagerly running to meet and serve his unexpected guests (Genesis 18:1-8). The reputation of a household, and even a community, could hinge on its ability to offer generous hospitality. As the likely head of the house, Martha felt the immense weight of this expectation. She was diligent, taking on the responsibility of preparing a significant meal for Jesus and His disciples—a task that would have been physically demanding and time-consuming. This pressure to perform perfectly and meet such high cultural standards became a primary source of her internal worry.

Her service, though noble and culturally expected, became a source of distraction and overwhelming anxiety. The Greek word periespato, translated as “distracted” (Luke 10:40, NIV), literally means to be “pulled or dragged in different directions.” Martha was being pulled by the numerous tasks, the intense pressure to perform perfectly, and the sheer volume of work required for such an important guest. This internal pulling and scattering of her focus directly led to her anxious state. Her anxiety manifested as worry, frustration, and a sense of being overwhelmed. Her complaint to Jesus—”Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (Luke 10:40, NIV)—reveals not just a desire for assistance, but a deep-seated stress, irritation, and perhaps a feeling of unfairness or unappreciation, all hallmarks of an anxious mind. She was consumed by the “many preparations” (Luke 10:40) and the fear of falling short of her cultural duty.

This narrative highlights how our good intentions and diligent service can sometimes lead us away from what is most important, especially when driven by external pressures or internal perfectionism. Are we so busy for God that we neglect being with God, allowing our actions to be fueled by worry rather than peace? What “many things” distract us and drive our anxiety, preventing us from focusing on the main thing and finding peace in His presence?

Mary’s Devotion:

In stark contrast to Martha, Mary’s posture signifies humility, reverence, and a profound desire to learn. Sitting at Jesus’ feet was the position of a disciple learning from a Rabbi—a role highly unusual for a woman in that cultural context, yet one she embraced wholeheartedly. Her focus was singular: listening intently to the words of Jesus. She understood the unique and precious opportunity before her, choosing to engage with the source of true peace amidst potential chaos. Mary recognized that the presence of Jesus and His teaching was more important than the elaborate preparation of a meal, no matter how necessary it seemed or how much cultural pressure there was. She chose intimacy and spiritual nourishment over practical tasks, finding peace and tranquility in His presence rather than succumbing to the pressure and anxiety of the moment. Her choice reflects a spiritual “mindfulness” that centers on Christ.

What does it look like for us to “sit at Jesus’ feet” in our daily lives, particularly when facing the anxieties of today? It’s about intentional presence that calms our fears, reorients our priorities, and anchors us in a tumultuous world.

“But one thing is necessary,” Jesus declares. “Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her”(Luke 10:42, NIV). This is the core message. Amid many good things, there is one best thing that truly addresses our deepest needs and anxieties. The spiritual nourishment Mary received from Jesus was eternal and lasting, providing a peace that worldly tasks and accomplishments cannot. This peace offers a profound contrast to Martha’s temporary, anxiety-laden efforts. It is the ultimate antidote to the pervasive worry of life.

Jesus’ Gentle Correction: The One Thing Needed for Freedom from Anxiety

Jesus’ response to Martha is tender yet direct: “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one” (Luke 10:41-42, NIV). He sees her heart and her internal struggle, directly naming her anxiety and the burden she carries. He doesn’t condemn her desire to serve, but the worry that has consumed her. He points out that her frantic activity has produced anxiety, suggesting a better way to live free from such burdens by shifting her focus from the overwhelming “many things” to the singular “one thing.”

What is that “one thing” for us? It is our relationship with Jesus, our communion with Him, and our obedience to His word. Everything else flows from this and is the ultimate antidote to our anxieties. We must guard this “good portion”against the demands and distractions of the world, choosing peace over worry.

Choosing to “Mind the Master”

The story of Martha and Mary is not about condemning service, but about prioritizing the source of all service—Jesus Himself—as the ultimate remedy for our anxieties and worries. The title “Minding the Master” encapsulates the core message of Luke 10:38-42. To “mind” means to pay attention to, to obey, to care for, and to be concerned with. It implies a conscious and deliberate focus. In this context, “Minding the Master” means intentionally prioritizing Jesus—His presence, His words, and His will—above all the demands and distractions of life. It means choosing to sit at His feet, to listen to Him, and to allow His peace to govern our hearts, rather than being consumed by the “many things” that lead to anxiety. In truly minding Him, we find freedom from the grip of worry.

In our lives, we will always have “many things” vying for our attention and contributing to our anxiety, from financial strain to health concerns, and societal pressures to personal struggles. The challenge is to discern the “one thing” that is truly necessary and offers lasting peace. Are we truly “minding the Master” by making Him our ultimate priority, allowing His presence to calm our troubled hearts and minds?

Let us take time to be still and listen to Jesus, especially when anxiety mounts. Let us evaluate our daily schedules and identify what distractions steal our focus from Him and feed our anxiety. Let us choose the “good portion” daily—intentional time in His presence, soaking in His word, and allowing His peace to guard our hearts and minds.

Lord, help us to be like Mary, choosing the better part. Deliver us from the anxiety of many things, and draw us into deeper communion with You, the one thing necessary, that we may find true peace in Your presence.

References

* Brown, C. (Ed.). (1976). Dictionary of New Testament Theology. Zondervan. (For periespato)

* Keener, C. S. (1993). The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament. InterVarsity Press. (For cultural context of hospitality and women as disciples)

* Longenecker, R. N. (2016). The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (Revised Edition): Luke. Zondervan Academic. (For general commentary on Luke 10:38-42)

* Strong, J. (2009). Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible. Hendrickson Publishers. (For Greek word definitions)

Don’t Fight Your Toxic Co-Worker—Let Them Be Your Unofficial Spy!

Don’t Fight Your Toxic Co-Worker—Let Them Be Your Unofficial Spy!

Ah, the office tyrant. We all know them, and we’ve all been subjected to their unique brand of charm (read: condescension and rudeness). They’re the self-proclaimed president of “Jerks Are Us,” yet somehow, they’ve managed to keep their job longer than that one sad office plant in the corner. You’ve fantasized about putting them in their place, perhaps with a well-aimed stapler or a passive-aggressive Post-it note. But hold on to your horses, because I’m here to tell you: don’t do that!

Yes, you read that right. That obnoxious colleague, the one who makes your blood pressure rise faster than the company’s stock value during a tech boom, might just be your secret weapon. Unconventional? Absolutely. Brilliant? Potentially.

Your Office Irritant: The Inside Man You Never Knew You Needed

Think about it: disrespectful people might be nerve-wracking, but they have one undeniable quality—they always tell you what they’re thinking. And while it always sounds negative, their unsolicited opinions and sly put-downs can actually be a sign that you’re on the right track. Consider them your indirect, albeit incredibly grumpy, insider.

More often than not, the more insecure these office bullies get, the more erratic their behavior becomes. Their nonsensical rants and subtle jabs are likely a neon sign flashing: “You’re looking good in the eyes of those who matter!” So, before you start drafting that anonymous HR complaint, consider this: why get rid of a perfectly good (and free!) information source?

These “tazmanians” of the office world even have friends (yes, it’s a shocker, I know). And those friends, few as they may be, often have influence that directly impacts your workflow. Your obnoxious colleague, in their tireless pursuit of negativity, will inadvertently clue you into their friends’ thoughts and feelings about you, the company, management, and basically anything else under the sun. Read between the lines of their nasty comments and rude emails, and you’ll uncover a treasure trove of insights. It’s the classic adage: “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

They never run out of opinions, so stop trying to shut them up! Let them talk, let them make fools of themselves. The truth is, if you eliminate this particular devil, another one will simply take its place. At least you know this one.

How to Harness Your Human Alarm Bell

So, how do you manage this invaluable, albeit irritating, resource?

  • Maintain Your Professionalism (Always): Do not stoop to their level. Your stellar behavior, emails, Zoom calls, and verbal communication should be impeccable. In fact, use AI to assist you with crafting clear, concise, and professional communications. Let them be the loud, unprofessional one.
  • Consider Generational Communication Styles: Sometimes, what seems rude is simply a difference in how generations communicate. While this doesn’t excuse outright disrespect, understanding it can help you decode their messages more accurately.
  • Don’t Let Them Dethrone You: Your toxic co-worker secretly admires you. They fantasize about the respect and recognition you receive. Their erratic behavior is often a desperate attempt to knock you off your pedestal. Don’t give them the satisfaction of stooping to their level.
  • Treat Them Like the Child They Are: Seriously. Approach their outbursts and rudeness with the calm, measured response of a parent dealing with a toddler’s tantrum. Every so often, you might even need to explain, patiently and clearly, why the parent (you) knows best.

Embrace the chaos. Let your toxic co-worker be rude. Because underneath all that negativity lies a goldmine of information, just waiting for you to uncover it.

The Unexpected Goldmine: A Concluding Thought

So, the next time your office’s resident grump unleashes a volley of negativity or a subtly passive-aggressive email, resist the urge to deploy your well-rehearsed eye-roll. Instead, consider this: they might just be giving you a priceless gift wrapped in a prickly, uninviting package.

In a world where corporate jargon often obscures true intentions, your toxic colleague offers a refreshing (albeit jarring) dose of unvarnished opinion. Their very rudeness can be a highly sensitive barometer, signaling shifts in power dynamics, simmering resentments, or even just what someone really thinks about your latest project. Think of them as your human lie detector, only instead of “lie,” it’s “everything they’re too insecure to say politely.”

By mastering the art of professional detachment and strategic observation, you transform a hindrance into a helpful (don’t forget free!) intelligence asset. You gain insights into the true pulse of the office, understanding unspoken alliances and hidden agendas—all without having to lift a finger or engage in tiresome office politics. You get to maintain your composure, your dignity, and your stellar reputation, while they… well, they just keep being themselves. And in this particular scenario, that’s perfectly fine.

So, let them be rude. Let them vent. Let them inadvertently spill the beans. Because in the grand scheme of your career, that seemingly impossible colleague might just be the most valuable, albeit annoying, mentor you’ll ever have.

Willful Faith

Willful Faith

Have you ever found yourself in a state where your emotions feel like a runaway train, and you’re merely a passenger, helpless to control its destructive course? Perhaps it’s anxiety gnawing at your peace, depression casting a long shadow over your days, or a general sense of discouragement that weighs heavily on your spirit. This universal cry of the downcast soul is precisely what the Psalmist captures in Psalm 42. It’s a raw, honest look into the heart of someone experiencing profound distress, not pretending or putting on a brave face, but grappling with a fundamental question. In Psalm 42:5 (NIV), we hear this poignant lament and a profound declaration: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” This single verse presents an internal struggle, a willful act, and a confident expectation. It introduces us to the concept of “Willful Faith”—not blind optimism or a dismissal of pain, but an active, intentional decision to engage our faith in the midst of struggle, choosing to believe and hope even when it feels unnatural.

The problem, then, is the downcast soul itself. The Psalmist asks, “Why, my soul, are you downcast?” This speaks to a general sadness, a feeling of being weighed down, perhaps by unfulfilled desires, loss, or sheer weariness. But he goes deeper, asking, “Why so disturbed within me?” This implies an inner turmoil, a restless anxiety, an agitation that disrupts peace. It’s the internal wrestling match, a swirl of doubts and fears. It is crucial to recognize and honestly identify these feelings in our own lives, normalizing them as experiences even devout people face. The danger of remaining in this state unchecked is that it can lead to despair, paralysis, bitterness, or even the abandonment of faith. We risk being defined by our feelings rather than by our identity in Christ. The Psalmist, however, makes a crucial move: self-interrogation. He doesn’t merely wallow; he asks why. This active examination of the source of his despair, rather than letting it consume him, is the essential first step in active faith. It is a refusal to passively accept his emotional state.

This leads us to the principle: “Put your hope in God.” This is not a gentle suggestion but a direct command from the Psalmist to his own soul. Herein lies the essence of willful faith—an act of the will, not merely a fleeting emotion. The “hope” spoken of here is not wishful thinking; it is a confident expectation firmly rooted in God’s unchanging character and unfailing promises. It’s based on what God has done and what He will surely do. The object of our hope is critical: “in God.” Not in changing circumstances, not in our own limited strength, not in the fallibility of others, but in God alone. To “put your hope” involves active steps. It means recalling God’s character, reminding ourselves of who He is: faithful, loving, powerful, just, sovereign, and intimately present. It involves remembering God’s past faithfulness, looking back at how He has shown up for us or others in seemingly impossible situations. It means resting on God’s promises found in Scripture—His unwavering care for His children, His provision, and His ultimate victory (Philippians 4:6-7, Romans 8:28). This willful part of faith also requires engaging in spiritual disciplines: crying out to God in prayer, pouring out our hearts; choosing to worship Him even when we don’t feel like it, allowing praise to shift our perspective; immersing ourselves in Scripture, letting God’s word speak truth into our situations; and seeking godly counsel and encouragement within a faith community.

The beautiful outcome of this willful act is the promise: “I will yet praise him.” This is not a present reality for the downcast Psalmist, but a future certainty, born from his resolute decision to hope in God. The word “yet” is profoundly powerful; it signifies that despite the current struggle, there will be a time of praise. It is a statement of faith and defiance against despair. The foundation of this future praise is deeply personal: “My Savior and my God.” He grounds his coming praise in who God is to him. “My Savior” speaks of the one who delivers, redeems, and rescues, pointing ultimately to Jesus Christ as the supreme Savior. “My God” reveals a personal relationship; this is not an abstract deity, but the God who is intimately involved in his life. The fruit of such willful faith is multifaceted: joy can coexist with sorrow, for willful faith doesn’t erase pain, but it allows peace to permeate it. It provides perseverance, the strength to keep going when all we want to do is give up. It grants a renewed perspective, shifting our gaze from our overwhelming problems to the all-powerful Problem-Solver. Ultimately, the goal is not just to feel better, but to truly be able to praise God for His faithfulness, even for guiding us through the darkest valleys.

The journey from a downcast soul to putting hope in God inevitably leads to future praise. Embracing willful faith is a daily, often hourly, choice. It is a spiritual muscle that requires consistent exercise. Crucially, it’s not about mustering strength on our own, but about inviting the Holy Spirit to empower our will to hope in God. So, when your soul feels downcast and disturbed, dare to ask yourself the Psalmist’s question, and then, with intentionality, command your soul: “Put your hope in God!” He is unequivocally worthy of your willful faith. He is faithful, even when our feelings betray us. “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13).