I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry.

Psalm 40:1

What is patience? It may be a familiar word, but I suspect we’re more likely to define it by what it’s not than what it is. Patience, we think, is not pacing the room while I wait for that important phone call. It’s not fussing at my dawdling teenager or honking at the elderly driver in front of me. Patience is not grumbling, fretting, or exploding when I experience a delay. But the Bible also presents patience as a positive virtue. It’s not merely the absence of sin; it’s the pursuit of righteousness. Today we’ll see that patience is waiting on the Lord. The Lord is sovereign over the circumstances and people in our lives; ultimately, he is the one who causes us to wait, and he brings our waiting to an end. We practice patience by looking in faith to him.

In Psalm 40, David is stuck. He’s trapped in a “pit of destruction” and floundering in a “miry bog” (v. 2). The psalm doesn’t explain exactly what David’s swamp was; it could have been a work struggle or a relational mess. It could have been both. But, whatever the circumstances, David’s response was to cry out to God and then wait. And because he studied God’s Word and works (vv. 5, 7–8), meditated on God’s kindness and mercy (vv. 6, 11), and diligently participated in corporate worship (vv. 9–10), David waited with hope. We can learn from his example. Whether we are stuck in unmet desires or tangled in financial worries, we can call on our Lord. We can seek to know him as he is revealed in his Word. And we can trust he will do what is best.

In the end, God always keeps perfect time.¹ He never underestimates the amount of time it will take to accomplish a goal or to bring about a certain result. He never misjudges his own ability; he never miscalculates the moment to act. Because he is sovereign over all, his plans and purposes unfold precisely when they should, at the very moment he decreed from eternity past. Every one of God’s works happens exactly on time.

This is why David could say in another psalm, “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (27:14). Our souls should be encouraged when we realize it’s God we’re waiting on. Unlike fallible people, God has never had to rush in and say to anyone, “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.” If the Lord delays, it’s not because he miscalculated. We can wait with hope, knowing he has wisely determined that this precise period of waiting is the best thing for our good and his glory.

Let your heart take courage.

—Megan Hill, author, Patience

And in the fourth watch of the night [Jesus] came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”

Matthew 14:25–27

The way Jesus handled his disciples’ fear is so different from the way we handle our own.

Jesus is gentle and compassionate. He is tenderly comforting. He reassured his disciples by identifying himself to them. They knew the sound of his voice and would have felt relieved as he began speaking to them. “Do not be afraid” was an invitation to relax, not a shaming reprimand.

How different would this story be if Jesus had yelled at the disciples for feeling afraid? What if he had hollered at them, “You fools. You shouldn’t feel anxious. You should know I can do anything!”

Jesus does not do this here (nor anywhere in Scripture). But how often do we do this to ourselves?

If anxiety had a shadow, it would be shame—the shoulds and shouldn’ts that often follow anxiety wherever it goes.

“I should be grateful, not anxious. I’m glad I was invited to my friend’s house.”

“I should stop worrying and calm down. It’s going to be fine.”

“I shouldn’t be so stressed. This isn’t a big deal.”

It is amazing how often we tell ourselves what we should or shouldn’t feel, as if we could directly control what we experience emotionally. In fact, many of us feel ashamed for feeling anxious (in our heads, we might hear, “I feel stupid for feeling . . .” or “I feel bad for feeling .  .  .”). In reality, shame only makes things worse.

When we shame ourselves over our emotions (the shoulds and shouldn’ts), they don’t just go away. Their energy stores up in our bodies in different ways. This is why I had horrible stomach pain and nausea when I was working sixty hours a week. And it’s sometimes why we have headaches or other types of pain in our bodies. Anxiety can be a sign we have a lot of emotion stored up in our bodies. Our emotion is made to be seen, felt, and shared with others who can bear our burdens with us. We see this with Jesus, who invites his friends to entrust their fear to him and let him bear that burden with them.

Have you ever held in a sneeze? It’s painful. It needs to make its way out. It’s ridiculous to imagine telling yourself, “You shouldn’t sneeze. You’re stupid for feeling like you want to sneeze.” Sneezes and emotions both need to be released.

But we know there’s a time and a place for them as well. We don’t want to sneeze on the person sitting in front of us in school. We want to make sure our sneeze has a safe place to land. It would be far better to identify that we need to sneeze, choose the right place to aim our noses, and then sneeze away. The same is true with our emotions, although how we express them may look or sound different depending on our culture or family background.

The first and best place to aim our emotions is Jesus, the one who gently tells us, “Take heart; it is I.” He is the one who already sees and knows us and loves us to the very depths of our emotions. The Ruler of heaven and earth invites us to share with him, to let him be our friend. He invites us to hear his powerful voice—the one that calms our storms as he says, “Do not be afraid.” For he is with us, and he never leaves us on our own.

—Liz Edrington, author, Anxiety

“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.”

Isaiah 55:2

Have you ever thought, “If we could just afford to own a home of our own, then life would be good” or “How I wish I could drive a new car instead of my old junker”? Have you ever told yourself, when you’ve felt stressed, “Perhaps if I bought myself that new electronic gadget [or pair of shoes], I would feel better”? 

We live in a culture in which people’s worth is measured by their financial success. We are told that material things will make us happy. It is easy for Christians to be affected by the spirit of our age. 

The Bible teaches that material things can be a blessing from God (see 1 Tim. 4:4). Our problem is that we can take that which is good, such as material blessings or food or sex, and put it ahead of that which is best (God). The biblical term for such distorted priorities is idolatry (see Col. 3:5). 

In Isaiah 55, the Lord reminds us that idols never satisfy. People devote their lives to gaining material riches without ever finding true happiness and peace. The billionaire Howard Hughes lived out his later years as a fearful recluse. One famous business titan reportedly said, “I have made many millions, but they have brought me no happiness.”¹

My wife and I once lived in a prosperous Middle Eastern country. We watched people accumulate savings, travel the world, and buy expensive jewelry, cars, and houses. But their wealth did not make them happy. Nor did we see many cases in which someone said, “Now I have enough” (see Eccl. 5:10). As Isaiah says, people pour out their very lives for that which is not bread and their labor for that which does not satisfy.

The answer to materialistic idolatry is learning to find satisfaction in Christ, who is the Bread of Life (see John 6:35). He offers living water that will forever satisfy the thirst of those who drink (see John 7:37–39). And, in contrast to the costly bread of the world that can no more satisfy your soul than sawdust, Jesus offers Himself to you freely. He has paid for the feast by pouring out His life for all who will turn to Him.

Have you turned away from the bankrupt values and idolatry of the world and believed in Jesus, who satisfies our greatest need—forgiveness and restored fellowship with God? Christ died in the place of sinners and has been raised from the dead so that all who trust Him might have new, abundant life. God invites you to abandon the plastic bread of worldly wealth so that you can feast upon the rich spiritual banquet that He offers.

Perhaps you are a believer who has drifted away from Christ and toward the idolatry of worldliness. This may be why you are unsettled. As Augustine said, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” The Lord invites you to return to Him so that your soul can find renewed joy and peace.

—Jim Newheiser, author, Money

Many . . . walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.

Philippians 3:18–21

Change requires both work and surrender. Paul says, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling”—the Philippians were responsible to fight for their faith (Phil. 2:12). Yet he adds, “For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (v. 13). In Scripture we are called to work because God works in us. In your battle against addictive habits, you will have to both work and surrender.

This duality is important. If you don’t fight sin, you will never change. You will fail to follow Jesus. Yet, if you think that all your striving is what produces change, you will drift toward self- reliance and self-righteousness.

Paul warns in Philippians 3 that we are not to neglect the first part of this equation: our responsibility. Verses 18 and 19 set up the warning. There are some who Paul says “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.” Their lifestyle denies or distorts the gospel of Jesus. “Their god is their belly”—they are ruled by their desires. “They glory in their shame”—they delight in immorality. They set their minds “on earthly things”—they are consumed with ungodly thoughts. Their end is destruction. It’s a warning to all: if you do not make it your goal to follow Jesus, you will be an enemy of the cross. Paul warns us to strive after godliness.

Yet Paul reassures us, too. If all our hope hinged on our faithfulness, we would have little reason to hope. We are frail and fickle. Paul gives this encouragement in verses 20–21: Jesus Christ will transform you. While these “enemies” have their minds set on earthly things, Christians have a “citizenship . . . in heaven, and from it we await a Savior.” We have every reason to hope, because this Savior is coming. He will transform our weakness, frailty, fickleness, and inconsistency. The same “power that enables him even to subject all things to himself ” is the power at work in us. We can trust this Savior because he “[works] in us that which is pleasing” to him (see Heb. 13:21). We have the promise that “he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). This is a rock-solid guarantee. We labor against our addiction because ultimately God will change us.

God calls you to action—there is no passivity in the Christian life. Yet you have this confidence: the Lord Jesus Christ will transform you! His work is the sure guarantee of your hope; your work is the response of confidence.

—David R. Dunham, author, Addictive Habits

To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

Psalm 25:1–3

Prayer is an activity we practice in various times and different ways. Some expressions of our prayers are more intense or focused than others. Sometimes we feel more “in the mood to pray,” while at other times it takes energy and willpower to move us to prayer.

So it is important to realize that regardless of our time or place or energy level for prayer, in prayer our hearts and minds should be aimed to God. This is basic. But we can sometimes be diverted from this truth.

Arthur Dent noted that when we pray to “Our Father who art in heaven,” we are directed toward God in heaven, and this is where we are to be focused. He wrote, “Our hearts in prayer must mount up into heaven, and be lifted up above all earthly and frail things, how beautiful or goodly soever, and be wholly fixed upon the Lord.” He then cited Psalm 25:1: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.” The psalmist began his prayer with his heart and soul concentrated on the Lord.

In our fast-paced, technology-driven, action-packed culture, our times of prayer need to be oriented to God, rather than on “all earthly and frail things”—no matter how interesting and alluring those earthly things may be! Usually our attention is drawn and diverted to dozens of things almost simultaneously. In prayer, our attention is on God—listening to God and speaking to God. We are to be “wholly fixed upon the Lord.”

—Donald K. McKim, author, Everyday Prayer with the Puritans