As an anxious person, I doubted my salvation daily. I read every Bible passage about worry and fear as if God scolded me like a disappointed father. If I could not wrestle this “flaw” into submission, I believed hellfire awaited me. I pictured Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount booming from the hill he stood on, commanding his listeners to never dare worry again—or else.
But as I read God’s word and spent time with his people, it occurred to me—what if my imagination had it all wrong? What if God opens his arms to the fearful and anxious and invites them to draw near in humble trust, rather than scowling at them with scoffing and condemnation?
Jesus’s Gentle Invitation
Pastor and counselor Dr. Tim Lane explains that just as a parent gently comforts a frightened child, Jesus invites us to trust in him. If one of our little ones ran into our bedroom in the middle of the night frightened by a nightmare, we wouldn’t scold them; we’d cradle and soothe them, reminding them of our protection and that the dream is only a dream. Dr. Lane reminds us of Jesus’s kind ending to his extensive teaching on worry: “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32).
Dr. Lane writes, “Jesus is calling you out of your anxiety because he knows it is not helpful. He encourages you in your struggle to find safety. He creates the very safety you are so desperately seeking, and shows you how to turn to him in child-like trust.” We don’t need to balk or hide our faces from our Savior as we draw near to tell him our fears and worries. He invites us to bring them to him as an act of trust.
Anxiety has many causes. Perhaps we long for more cushion financially, a spouse we have yet to find, the career we trained for rather than the job we currently work, or a lifelong dream that enchanted us since childhood. As time wears on and our fingertips have yet to grasp the life we long for, anxiety creeps in to say we will never find peace or happiness.
Before Jesus tells the crowds to trust in God to provide for them, Matthew records Jesus’s sermon on earthly and heavenly treasure: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal,” he told them. “But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matt. 6:19–21).
While the things we long for may be good, we can distort those good gifts into an object of worship. This is why Jesus said we cannot serve two masters (Matt. 6:24). You can only obey the commands of one Savior—and he is eternally ours. With this foundation, Jesus tenderly encourages his listeners to put their trust in their Father, who not only provides for the smallest bird and flower, but for his beloved children (Matt. 6:25–34).
Stop Striving to be God
To have this kind of trust, however, we must cease striving to be God. In our fears and worries, our flustered toil reflects a heart seeking to take the place of God. We fear because we can’t change the future, stop the disease, stay the natural disaster, or miraculously provide for our needs. We can’t sway the hearts of kings like a river (Prov. 21:1). Yet we continue to try and grapple for such power, falsely believing we can in some small way. When we inevitably fail, we sink into panic.
Yet our Father gently calls us to trust in his ability to provide. In Psalm 46, we read of mountains falling into the sea, roaring waters, quaking volcanoes, and wars. Yet near the end of this song, God declares, “Stop striving and know that I am God” (Ps. 46:10 NASB). Stop depending on yourself, dear child. Amid the chaos, God calls us to stillness and to remember that he alone is God.
Often my two-year-olds will sit in frustrated tears, fighting with a shoe or zipper, crying, “I do it, I do it!” while I hold out my hand to help. Finally, they resign and meekly murmur, “Help me.” We don’t need to fight until tears come; we can cease striving now and trust our Father.
Humble Trust
To accept these invitations, we need humility. Peter wrote to the dispersed and persecuted believers, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:6–7). Why does Peter put humility and trusting God together? He sees the connection between fear and pride. When we worry, we assume not only that we could be God, but that we know better than God. “If only I was sovereign, then I could work my life out better.”
Peter names humility as the remedy for this worry. We need to humbly hold out our hand to God as a small child and cast our anxieties on him.
This humility comes through a greater knowledge of our God. As we grow in our understanding of God’s character and are awed by his grandeur, we turn to him. As we see his perfect sovereignty, his flawless goodness, his unquenchable might, we realize we could not be any safer than in his hands. This is the kind of heart that turns to Jesus with every care and entrusts them to him. And even when we struggle to come before him with such a heart, he still beckons us to come and receive his tender care.
