Maybe it was the heavy fog that settled in overnight. Maybe it was the super moon’s effect on my sleep last night. Or maybe it was that no one (well…practically no one) showed up for my small group today.

Add the nonstop barrage of political forecasts—and subsequent conversations—that make our future as a country as gloomy as the weather.

All of this makes me feel weary and sad.

But then I gazed on a well-worn page, highlighted and underlined in my Bible. I have read this Scripture a thousand times. Memorized it long ago. Quoted it more times than I can recall. Today, I needed to really hear it again…and again.

“Rejoice in the Lord always; and again, I say, rejoice” (Philippians 4:4).

Do you think the apostle Paul felt like rejoicing at that moment? I don’t know, but I sure am thankful that this verse is here for me when I don’t particularly feel like rejoicing.

 

Rejoice…always.

Maybe you don’t feel like there’s anything to rejoice about in your life. Maybe, like me, you need to hear this too right now. That is why I’m writing. To remind myself and many of you too, of this very familiar passage.

This verse is an all-time classic that leads us right into a virtuoso list of excellent thoughts the Lord would have us dwell on.

Whatever is true. Whatever is noble. Whatever is right. Whatever is pure. Whatever is lovely. Whatever is of good report.

Some days, you really do need to shift your gaze.

Strangely though, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed the verb that comes at the end of this list: “…if there is anything excellent, anything worthy of praise—dwell on these things.”

Dwell on them. The Greek word (logizomai) means to think continually, to contemplate, to implant them in your heart. Paul is literally telling the Philippians to count their blessings and live there.

Now if it was only the Philippians who were having a bad day, that would be one thing. But the reality for Paul as he wrote this letter is that he was incarcerated in Rome with the thought of execution looming over him.

Humanly speaking, his situation was a mess. Even the generous donation from his Philippian friends won’t commute his sentence. And yet he says, “Rejoice.”

 

Rejoice

The cheap version of this is to pretend it’s all fine. I’ve got Jesus, so nothing hurts. But Paul is living out almost the opposite. Everything hurts—but I’ve got Jesus.

So, on those days when we deeply feel the intensity of our messed-up world, we still must focus our hearts on all the whatever is… things.

See how beautiful life is meant to be…focus on how beautiful it will be someday.

God knows the evil is real enough. So evil, one can stew in it, if one chooses to.

Nursing the hurts, wallowing in the misery…that void will suck you in deep if you let it. The choice is ours, and it’s a daily decision we must make.

Will you dwell on the darkness you see? Or will you set your thoughts and establish your heart firmly in the Lord?

 

The bad news, I suppose, is that in the end, Paul still died. So did the Philippians. So will we.

But what is TRUE is true…what is PURE is holy…what is LOVELY does not fade. It is a gift, even in the valley of death. Once you start to dwell on these things—to contemplate and let them take deep root in your heart—they will change you.

Listen. I am not saying we ignore the bad stuff. It is real. But let’s not fixate on it.

“I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation,” he wrote.

And in the end? Paul’s clear fixation on these good things was enough to tunnel him through every prison wall and out the other side of death to joy everlasting.

* * *

“I can do all things [which He has called me to do] through Him who strengthens and empowers me [to fulfill His purpose—I am self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency.

I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him who infuses me with inner strength and confident peace].

Philippians 4:13 (AMP)