2026.09.06 | I Do Not Stay Calm as Easily as I Think

I do not need a global crisis to become anxious.

Sometimes all it takes is a weird email from work, a sharp comment from someone I love, a bill I forgot about, or traffic that makes me late. I can go from calm to tense in about three seconds.

That is uncomfortable to admit because I prefer to think of myself as steady.

But my reactions tell the truth.

On Sunday, when we read Matthew 24, Jesus said His disciples would hear of wars and rumors of wars. He talked about famines and earthquakes. He did not minimize suffering. He did not pretend the world would be easy. But then He said, “See that you are not alarmed.”

That phrase has stayed with me.

Not because it is easy, but because it exposes me.

I am often alarmed. I am alarmed by things much smaller than wars and earthquakes. I get alarmed when my plans change. I get alarmed when I feel misunderstood. I get alarmed when I cannot control what happens next.

And when I am alarmed, I usually reach for control. I overthink. I rehearse conversations in my head. I become short with people. I scroll for more information, hoping that knowing more will somehow make me trust God more. It usually does the opposite.

Jesus is not calling me to be uninformed or emotionally detached. He is calling me to be rooted.

Pastor Jeff said that rain is going to come and wind is going to blow, but the question is whether we are on the rock. That helped me. The goal is not to build a life where nothing hard happens. That life does not exist. The goal is to be anchored in Jesus when hard things do happen.

This week, I have been trying to notice what alarms me.

Not just the big things. The small ones too.

When I feel my shoulders tighten or my tone sharpen, I want to pause and ask, “What am I believing right now?” Am I believing God is absent? Am I believing everything depends on me? Am I believing peace will come once I regain control?

The gospel tells a better story.

Jesus is not surprised by chaos. He is not threatened by instability. He endured suffering, death, and the cross, and He rose again. My circumstances may be unstable, but He is not.

So I am asking Him for a steadier heart.

Not a numb heart.  
Not a detached heart.  
A heart that can tell the truth about pain and still trust the goodness of God.