Anxiety and the Christian Life: Part Two
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Joshua%201%3A1-9&version=NLT
Who Is With You in This?
A Lenten Reflection on Fear, Presence, and Trust
Last Sunday, many of us came forward to receive ashes, marking the beginning of Lent. As the ashes were placed on our foreheads, we heard words we do not often let sink in: “From dust you came, and to dust you shall return.” Ashes tell the truth. They strip away our illusions of control and permanence, reminding us that life is fragile and finite. And once that truth begins to settle, another question quietly rises beneath it: If this is really true… who is with me in this journey?
That is the question Scripture speaks into. On this Second Sunday in Lent, we hear the story of Joshua and the daunting path set before him. He stands at the edge of uncertainty, stepping into a future he did not choose at a moment he would not have picked. Yet what he discovers is not a plan, not a guarantee of success, but a promise: God goes with His people. They never walk alone. And the same God who was with Joshua can be trusted to be with us.
Let me be clear and honest with you. I am not simply offering an idea for reflection; I am inviting you to trust in Jesus and to entrust your life to Him. I am inviting you into the life of God’s covenant people, into the waters of baptism, into the shared life of the church. My hope is not just that you will understand this truth, but that you will step into it. So as you read, do not listen only with your mind, but with your heart, as God calls us to courage.
I. Head — Courage Is Rooted in God’s Presence, Not Self-Confidence
From Joshua’s perspective, this is the worst possible moment to lead. Moses—the irreplaceable leader—is gone. Israel is vulnerable, untested, and afraid. The land ahead is occupied and defended, and the future feels uncertain at best and dangerous at worst. Yet God does not ask Joshua to deny what he feels. Instead, God names the fear and then answers it. Three times, God tells him to be strong and courageous, not because the circumstances are safe, but because “the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
This is where Scripture reshapes our understanding of courage. Courage is not the denial of fear, nor is it naïve optimism, nor even a strong sense of self-confidence. Biblical courage is rooted in confidence in God’s presence. It is the quiet, steady assurance that we are not alone, even when everything around us feels uncertain.
When I read about Joshua stepping into leadership at such a moment, I am reminded of Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer. Shackleton did not lead from a position of strength or success. His ship was crushed by ice, leaving his crew stranded in one of the most hostile environments on earth. What saved them was not brilliance or power, but presence. Shackleton stayed with his men. He shared their danger and refused to let any of them face the ordeal alone. It is true that he had nowhere to run, but as someone who grew up in an impoverished neighborhood, I can tell you that people do not need a physical escape in order to disappear. They can withdraw into themselves and be just as absent. Shackleton’s courage was the courage to remain present.
Joshua faces a different kind of wilderness, but the same kind of fear. Moses is gone, the future is uncertain, and the people are watching. Joshua cannot be Moses, but he can be who God has called him to be in that moment. He can be faithful, because God is with him.
II. Heart — When “Fear Not” Meets Real Fear
Centuries later, the prophet Isaiah speaks to a people surrounded by powerful empires, a people who feel small, threatened, and unsure of their future. Into that reality, God speaks these words: “Do not be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.” What is striking is not only what God says, but what He does not say. God does not tell them to try harder, to fix their situation, or to stop feeling afraid. Instead, He places Himself inside their fear.
This is where we discover something essential for the Christian life: the opposite of fear is not bravery; the opposite of fear is trust. Fear does not disappear simply because we believe. What changes is that fear is no longer something we face alone.
When I read Isaiah’s words, I think of Malala Yousafzai. As a young girl in Pakistan, she spoke publicly about her belief that girls should be educated. For that, she received threats and was eventually attacked. What is striking is that she has never claimed she was without fear. She has spoken openly about it. Yet she also believed that her life was held by something larger than her fear, that she was not alone, and that conviction carried her forward.
We need to say this carefully and honestly: God’s promise in Isaiah 41 is not a guarantee that nothing terrible will ever happen. Scripture never suggests that faith removes danger or that obedience ensures safety. What God promises is something deeper and, in the end, stronger: “I will be with you.” Even when the outcome is uncertain, God is present. Even when the cost is real, God is near. Even when the road leads through suffering, God does not withdraw. He enters into it with us.
III. Heart — God Walks With Us Through the Valley
Psalm 23 gives us one of the most honest and comforting pictures of life with God. It does not promise the absence of hardship or the avoidance of suffering. Instead, it offers something better: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The psalm does not deny the valley; it names it. But it also insists that the valley is not faced alone.
This is the language of Lent. Lent does not rush past the cross to Easter; it teaches us how to walk faithfully in between. God does not stand at the end of the valley calling out instructions from a distance. He walks beside us within it, step by step.
When we try to imagine what it means for God to be “with us,” it may help to think of something very human and familiar. It is like the person who sits quietly in a hospital room with a loved one. Not the doctor making rounds or the nurse adjusting equipment, but the one who pulls up a chair and stays. They do not have answers, they cannot control the outcome, and they do not try to fill the silence. They simply remain. Their presence does not remove the pain, but it changes the experience of it. Psalm 23 does not tell us that God explains the valley; it tells us that God stays.
IV. The Promise Continues
The New Testament echoes this same promise. In Hebrews we read, “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you,” and in response, the church learns to say, “The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear.” This is the same promise given to Joshua, the same assurance spoken through Isaiah, and the same truth held by early Christians under pressure and persecution. Faith does not mean fear disappears; it means fear is no longer faced alone.
V. Hands — Living After the Ashes
Last week, ashes reminded us who we are. This week, Scripture reminds us whose we are—and who is with us as we move forward. Lent is not about proving our strength or demonstrating our spiritual discipline. It is about learning, step by step, to trust in God’s nearness.
I think of Mayfield, Kentucky, a town not far from where I grew up, which was devastated by a powerful tornado in December 2021. The storm tore through neighborhoods, destroyed homes and churches, and left the city looking like a war zone. In the aftermath, many families lost not only their houses but the rhythms and stability of everyday life. And yet, in the years since, something remarkable has taken place. People have stayed. Neighbors have helped neighbors. Volunteers have come alongside local leaders to rebuild. The recovery has not been quick or easy, and the loss has not simply disappeared. Many are still waiting for permanent housing, and the pain is still real. But step by step, life is being reclaimed—not because the disaster was undone, but because people refused to walk through it alone.
Closing Invitation
As we continue this Lenten journey, the question remains: what fear are you carrying that you no longer want to carry alone? Where do you need to hear again the promise, “I am with you. I will help you. I will uphold you”? And perhaps even more importantly, are you ready to trust the One who is already with you?
Lent begins with the reminder that we are dust, but it does not end there. It leads us to the deeper truth that, even in our frailty, even in our fear, we are never abandoned. The God who calls us also walks with us, and because of that, we do not walk this road alone.