Unshakeable Love Amidst Anxiety

Some days arrive with a rumor of threat. Headlines speak in the register of Herod; calculating, anxious, ever posturing for control. Into that climate the Scriptures lay two steadying truths: God’s love in Christ is unlosable, and Jesus does not let fear set His calendar. Between Romans 8’s thunderous assurance and Luke 13’s fierce tenderness, a path appears for modern disciples who feel tugged between anxiety and apathy: keep moving in love; come under His wings.

Love That Outlasts Every Threat

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” is not bravado; it is the logic of the cross. Paul does not promise immunity from pain but union through it. The word he uses; “we conquer overwhelmingly”; speaks of a victory that does not erase suffering but transfigures it. Christ died, was raised, and now intercedes; our worst fears enter a courtroom where the Judge Himself has already stepped down to stand with the accused. In an age of relentless self-critique and public condemnation, Romans 8 offers a sturdier verdict: acquitted, loved, kept. Neither job loss, diagnosis, betrayal, nor the quieter attritions of fatigue and loneliness can dislodge those sealed into this love.

Courage in a World of Foxes

“Go tell that fox…” Jesus names the manipulative machinery of power without letting it rewrite His mission. He keeps His horizon clear: today, tomorrow, and on the third day He brings His work to fulfillment. Fear wants to schedule our souls; Christ refuses. Our lives, too, are pestered by “foxes”: the algorithm that monetizes our outrage, the office politics that demand self-betrayal, the inner scripts that catastrophize tomorrow. The Gospel invites a different posture; measured fidelity. Keep casting out what dehumanizes. Keep healing what is broken. Keep walking toward “Jerusalem,” the place where love will cost you something and yet will show the world what God is like.

The Lament of God and the Freedom of the Beloved

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem…” These are the words of a brokenhearted God who longs to gather His children “as a hen gathers her brood,” and who will not override their freedom. Divine love is steadfast without becoming coercive; it grieves without growing cynical. Many know this ache: a child drifting, a spouse closed off, a friend receding into addiction or despair. The Lord’s lament dignifies that sorrow and shows a way to hold it; open-armed, prayerful, truthful. The Church is not a fortress for the flawless but a warm, winged shelter for the willing. The invitation stands: let yourself be gathered. Consent to being loved where you feel most unlovable.

Mercy for the Pierced Heart

The psalmist prays from the raw place: “I am wretched and poor, and my heart is pierced within me… Save me, in your mercy.” This is not spiritual performance; it is spiritual honesty. God stands “at the right hand of the poor,” not as a distant auditor but as an advocate, rescuing from the cycle of accusation. When shame returns, pair Romans 8 with the psalm’s plea. Name your wound without ornament. Ask for the mercy that does more than forgive; it lifts, steadies, and sends.

Practicing a Non-Anxious Fidelity

• Name your foxes. Write down the forces that try to hijack your days. Bring them into the light of prayer and wise counsel.
• Keep a three-day horizon. Like Jesus, commit to concrete acts of love “today and tomorrow,” trusting that God is tending the “third day.”
• Come under the wings. Seek shelter in the sacraments, silent prayer, and honest confession. Let grace be a place you regularly inhabit, not a concept you admire from afar.
• Stand at the right hand of the poor. Make mercy practical: a visit, a meal, a bill paid, a listening ear. Mercy dissipates fear.
• Carry a line of Romans 8 in your pocket. Repeat it when anxiety swells: “Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

Hope That Walks Toward Jerusalem

Christian hope is not an escape hatch; it is companionship on the hard road. Jesus walks toward the city that will reject Him, not because He loves pain but because He loves people to the end. That same love walks with anyone who chooses fidelity over fear today. Keep moving in mercy. Keep trusting the verdict of grace. And when words fail, borrow the Church’s simple welcome that will one day be our own; “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord”; and let it open your heart again to the One who gathers, keeps, and sends.