Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 10:26–33

As a family, we have instituted Friday movie nights. Each week, a different child picks a movie for us to watch together. This week’s choice? One of our favorites: Inside Out 2.

As is often the case with Pixar movies, the parents enjoy it just as much as the kids. What caught my attention the first time I saw the film—and still does—isn’t Riley, the teenage girl at the center of the story. It’s the newest emotion to join headquarters: Anxiety.

This wild-haired, wide-eyed, orange-red emotion seems convinced that if she can just think through every possible scenario, she can prevent anything bad from ever happening to Riley. 

As I watch her frantically pace, plan, worry, and catastrophize, I cannot help but laugh out loud. Maybe it’s because I’m a redhead with somewhat untameable curly hair. Maybe it’s because I suffer from paralyzing anxiety. Or maybe it’s because I over-identify with this little red ball of frenetic energy. Whatever the reason, the resemblance feels a little too close for comfort. But also, spot on. 

In the movie, the harder that Anxiety works and strives to maintain control, the more miserable everyone around her becomes. 

The truth is, Anxiety's strategy is one many of us know well. If we can just think hard enough, prepare enough, and plan enough, maybe we can protect ourselves—and everyone we love—from suffering.

How often do we mentally rehearse conversations that haven’t happened yet, imagining outcomes we cannot control? How many minutes are wasted obsessing over the opinions of others or trying to solve tomorrow's problems before tomorrow arrives? 

Like the character of Anxiety, we convince ourselves that if we stay vigilant enough, we will keep pain and suffering at bay. 

However, Jesus offers us another way.

In this Sunday’s gospel, the Lord tells His disciples three times: "Do not be afraid." (Do you think He repeats Himself because He knows how quick we are to forget?)

Do Not Be Afraid
Jesus knows the disciples are heading into uncertainty. He knows they will face opposition, suffering, misunderstanding, and rejection. Yet, instead of giving them a detailed plan, He gives them something better: confidence in the Father’s care.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge” (Matthew 10:29).

Let’s pause on that truth for a moment, my friend, because it’s a good one: one of my favorites to ponder. 

The Creator of the universe notices the fall of a single sparrow. Nothing is insignificant to Him. 

Then, Jesus takes it even a step further: “Even all the hairs of your head are counted” (Matthew 10:30). They are not estimated. They are counted, known. God’s providence—His provision—extends into every corner of our lives. Nothing escapes His notice.

Not the infertility diagnosis. Or the loneliness of coming home to an empty apartment. Not the fear that accompanies a difficult medical appointment or the uncertainty surrounding a child’s choices. Not the suffering you never expected to carry or the criticisms that sting long after the conversation ends. 

The Father—our Father—sees it all. And through it all, He remains present with us. 

Held in the Father’s Care
What Jesus offers His disciples is not certainty about the future but confidence in the Father. Because the sparrow still falls. Suffering still comes. Prayers are not always answered in the way we hope. Yet, none of these happen outside the loving and tender gaze of our Father. 

Rather than anxiety and fear—the way of the world—Jesus invites us into the way of surrender. Not one of passive resignation or even pretending that suffering doesn’t hurt. It is the daily decision we make to place our lives into the hands of a Father who sees more than we do, who has the whole picture laid before Him, and who always wills for our good. 

Anxiety and fear promise a false sense of control, one that will always fail us, and like the movie, cause everyone to be miserable. What Jesus promises us is freedom.

We need only look to the countless holy men and women who carried crosses they never would have chosen, yet discovered Christ’s faithfulness in the midst of them. Saint Joan of Arc wasn’t fearless because her life was easy. Saint Edith Stein wasn’t fearless because she knew how her story would end. Servant of God Dorothy Day wasn’t fearless because she lived in comfort and wealth.

They were fearless because they trusted the One who was leading them—fully, wholly, completely.

Fear traps us in the present uncertainty. Faith lifts our eyes toward the ease of eternity.

Setting Our Gaze on Eternity
As followers of Christ, we are called not to merely move through our days hoping things will work out. We are called toward a promised eternal destination. We belong to Christ. Death has been conquered. Heaven awaits us, where every sorrow will be healed, and every tear wiped away (Revelation 21:4).

And, my friend, the woman who remembers eternity will begin to hold her fears differently.

She still experiences uncertainty, encounters suffering, and faces disappointment. Yet, she trusts that this present moment is not all that there is. Her faith in the One whose palm bears her name draws her eyes upward, above the things of this earth (Isaiah 49:16, Colossians 3:2).

The more we surrender to God’s providence, the looser our grip on this world becomes. The more we entrust our futures to Him, the more room there is for peace in our hearts and minds. And, the more we remember eternity, the less power fear has over us today.

The next time Inside Out 2 comes up on our movie watch list, I’ll probably laugh out loud at Anxiety all over again. I’ll still recognize myself in her frantic planning, overthinking, and desperate attempts to control the future. But, I’ll also remember something she never learned: peace doesn’t come from sitting in headquarters and managing every possible outcome. Peace comes from surrendering the controls to our good, good Father.

The woman who trusts in God’s providence doesn’t stop feeling afraid. She simply stops allowing fear to sit in the driver’s seat. She places her hand in the Father’s and walks with Him. One step. One prayer. One surrender at a time. 

Setting my gaze on eternity with you,
Jeannine

Food for thought or journaling… 

How might I hold my present fears or worries differently if I trust the truth that following God will lead me to the joy and peace of eternity? 

Father, thank You for noticing it all—the fears I carry, the prayers in my heart, the future I cannot yet see. Help me to trust that nothing escapes Your loving gaze. Give me the grace to surrender my worries and fears into Your capable hands and grant me the peace that comes from knowing You are carrying me home. Amen. 

P.S.  Trusting in the Father’s goodness is a challenging truth for even the most seasoned and faithful daughter of God. Explore God’s deep and profound love for you in our Bible study, Living in the Father’s Love.