“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” - Philippians 4:4-8 NIV
The calendar is about to turn.
No fireworks yet.
No resolutions written in ink.
Just that gentle pause between what has been and what is coming.
Paul writes from a place we would rather avoid—a prison cell—and still says, “Rejoice in the Lord always.”
Not because everything is fine, but because the Lord is still near.
Near when the year went as planned.
Near when it didn’t.
Near when we’re excited about what’s ahead.
Near when we’re quietly unsure.
As we stand on the edge of a new year, Philippians 4:4–8 feels like packing advice for the journey ahead.
First, Paul reminds us to rejoice.
Not in the calendar…
Not in fresh starts…
Not in our ability to “do better this time,” but in the Lord.
Joy rooted in Jesus doesn’t expire on December 31. It carries forward.
Then he says, “Do not be anxious about anything.” Which is far easier said than done. We carry worries like overstuffed luggage—finances, health, family, the unknowns we can’t quite name yet.
Paul doesn’t tell us to pretend they aren’t heavy. He tells us where to set them down.
Prayer.
Petition.
Thanksgiving.
One by one, we hand them to God and trust that His peace will stand guard over our hearts and minds.
That peace doesn’t erase questions. It steadies us while we walk with them.
Finally, Paul turns our attention to what should fill our thoughts. “Whatever is true… noble… right… pure… lovely… admirable.”
The year ahead will offer plenty of noise, fear, and distraction. We don’t control all of that—but we do have some say in what we dwell on.
What we rehearse in our minds often becomes what shapes our hearts.
The new year doesn’t need a better version of us nearly as much as it needs a surrendered one.
A heart anchored in joy.
A mind guarded by peace.
Thoughts intentionally turned toward what reflects Jesus.
So before the goals, the plans, and the promises we make to ourselves, maybe we should pause.
Rejoice again.
Pray honestly.
Think carefully.
And trust that the God who walked with us through the last year is already standing in the next one—ready, present, and faithful.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
