Anxiety is a universal struggle, yet men often face unique challenges in acknowledging and addressing it. Cultural expectations of toughness, self-reliance, and emotional restraint collide with the realities of human vulnerability. This tension can leave men feeling isolated, ashamed, or spiritually adrift. Scripture, however, offers profound wisdom for navigating anxiety—not as a sign of weakness, but as an invitation to deeper trust in God’s sovereignty and care. 1. Understanding Anxiety in Modern Manhood The Pressure to Perform Society and modern culture often measure a man’s worth by his achievements, financial stability, or ability to “handle things” and “fix” problems independently. This relentless drive to achieve can fuel anxiety, creating a fear of failure, job loss, or falling short of societal benchmarks. Work and success easily become idols, and self-worth begins to hinge on external validation. Yet Jesus directly confronts this mindset: “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on” (Matthew 6:25, ESV). His words remind us that our value is not rooted in worldly success, but in our identity as children of God. The Mask of Stoicism Many men hide anxiety behind a façade of toughness, fearing judgment if they admit struggle. But the Bible acknowledges the reality of fear and offers a better path: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3, ESV). Emotional honesty before God is not weakness—it is an act of faith. The Trap of Comparison Social media amplifies comparison, creating unrealistic standards for success. Men may feel inadequate when measuring their lives against curated highlights of others, leading to a cycle of shame and worry. The Apostle Paul reminds us: “But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding” (2 Corinthians 10:12, ESV). 2. The Heart of Anxiety: A Spiritual Battle Anxiety is more than a psychological struggle—it is a spiritual battleground where our desire for control clashes with God’s call to surrender. At its core, anxiety exposes a tension between our finite understanding and His infinite sovereignty. As one theologian starkly observed, “Anxiety is functional atheism—a fear that God cannot be trusted with our cares.” This diagnosis cuts to the heart: when we fixate on worst-case scenarios or cling to self-reliance, we subtly doubt God’s goodness, power, or attentiveness to our needs. Biblical Frameworks for the Battle Scripture reframes anxiety not as a moral failing but as an invitation to deeper faith. Consider Peter’s struggle on the stormy sea: he stepped out in faith but began to sink when fear eclipsed his trust in Christ (Matthew 14:30-31). Similarly, anxiety often surges when we shift our gaze from God’s promises to our problems. Key passages offer both rebuke and remedy: “Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, ESV). The Greek word for “cast” (ἐπιρίψαντες) implies a decisive, once-for-all action—a deliberate transfer of burdens to God. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6, ESV). Paul ties gratitude to anxiety’s antidote, reminding us that thankfulness redirects our focus to God’s past faithfulness. The Idolatry of Control Anxiety thrives when we elevate our plans above God’s providence. An emphasis on God’s sovereignty reassures us that “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps” (Proverbs 16:9, ESV). Yet clinging to control—whether over careers, relationships, or health—reflects a heart that doubts His wisdom. Like Martha, who was “anxious and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41) , we risk missing the “one thing necessary”: sitting at Christ’s feet in trust. The Example of David King David, a warrior and leader, openly wrestled with fear: “I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears” (Psalm 34:4, ESV). His psalms model raw honesty paired with steadfast trust—a balance men today can emulate. 3. Practical Steps for Overcoming Anxiety A. Prioritize Prayer Over Performance Replace self-reliance with daily dependence on God. Create a habit of “casting” anxieties through brief, honest prayers (e.g., “Lord, I’m overwhelmed by this deadline. Help me trust Your timing” ). Keep a journal to track God’s faithfulness in answered prayers. B. Cultivate Vulnerability in Community Isolation magnifies anxiety. Solomon wisely observed: “Two are better than one… For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, ESV). Identify a trusted friend, mentor, or small group where you can share struggles without judgment. C. Redeem Your Work, Don’t Worship It Anxiety often stems from idolizing career success or provision. Remember: “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” (Psalm 127:1, ESV). Work diligently, but hold outcomes loosely, trusting God’s ultimate plan. D. Serve Others to Shift Focus Anxiety thrives inward; service redirects focus outward. Jesus’ command to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39, ESV) is both a mission and a remedy for worry. Volunteer, mentor, or simply check on a friend in need. 4. Reflection Questions for Men Identity Check : “Where am I deriving my sense of worth—from achievements or from being God’s child?” Honesty Audit : “What anxieties am I hiding behind a ‘tough’ exterior? How can I bring these to God today?” Community Challenge : “Who in my life can I trust with my struggles? What step will I take to connect with them this week?” Control Surrender : “What situation am I trying to manage alone? How can I actively release it to God’s care?” Conclusion: Strength in Surrender Anxiety is not a sign of failure but an opportunity to deepen reliance on God. Despite facing persecution and hardship, the apostle Paul wrote, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13, ESV), emphasizing that true contentment—and freedom from anxiety—comes not from changing circumstances, but from relying on Christ’s strength in every situation. True strength for men of faith lies not in stoic self-sufficiency but in humble dependence on the One who holds all things together. Take Action Today Memorize Philippians 4:6-7. Schedule a 15-minute prayer walk to voice your anxieties. Text a friend to initiate an honest conversation.  God’s invitation stands: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, ESV). In Him, men find peace that transcends circumstance—and courage to replace fear with faith.

February 01, 2026 through February 7, 2026

Author: Joe Rigney Series: Gospel Integrity Series (in partnership with Union School of Theology) To Purchase this Book: click here Overview Courage: How the Gospel Creates Christian Fortitude by Joe Rigney is a concise, practical exploration of the Christian virtue of courage—also known as fortitude—and its deep connection to the gospel. Rigney examines how biblical courage is not simply the absence of fear, but a habitual, sober-minded mastery of fear through a greater desire for the glory of God. Drawing on Scripture, church history, and practical wisdom, Rigney encourages believers to develop boldness rooted in Christ, enabling them to face anxiety, anger, fear, and even persecution with steadfast joy. Key Themes Courage as a Christian Virtue: Rigney defines courage as “a stable habit of the heart that masters the passions, especially the passion of fear, through the power of a superior desire.” For Christians, that superior desire is the glory of God, which overcomes all lesser fears and passions. The Gospel as the Source of Courage: The gospel is described as the “fountain of Christian courage.” Because Christ has conquered sin and death, believers can stand boldly before God and men, no longer enslaved by fear of condemnation. Courage vs. Cowardice: Rigney contrasts true courage with its antithesis—cowardice—and encourages Christians to resist timidity and faintheartedness, which sap spiritual strength and resolve. Courage in the Face of Suffering: Drawing from biblical examples, especially the apostles and Paul, Rigney shows that Christian courage often means standing firm and rejoicing even amid suffering, persecution, and loss for the sake of Christ. Practical Application: The book offers practical advice for cultivating courage in daily life, including preaching unpopular truths, mastering passions, and developing courage appropriate to one’s sex. Chapter Summaries

Praying for Each Other: Lessons from Colossians 1:9–13

Difference Between a Devotional and Bible Study And the Need for Both

In the ancient world, athletes competed fiercely for a fleeting reward: a crown woven from leaves, a moment’s glory, perhaps a place in history. Yet the image of the race and the fight recurs in the Apostle Paul’s teaching—not to stir up aimless striving, but to focus Christians on the ultimate prize. To be a man of God is not only to run and fight—but to do so for something far more enduring than the temporary approval of others. The Christian life is a pursuit, yes, but what makes the effort meaningful is the nature of the reward: eternal life, the “crown of righteousness,” and Christ himself. Perishable Wreath vs. Imperishable Crown Paul’s powerful illustration in 1 Corinthians 9:24–25 cuts right to the core of our motivations: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.” (ESV) In the ancient games—the Olympics, for example—the victor did not receive gold or riches, but a garland of olive or laurel leaves. Crowds cheered, families boasted, and for a moment, the runner basked in glory. But the wreath itself wilted and faded, and with it the applause. Paul’s contrast is stunning: “But we an imperishable.” The effort called for in spiritual life is not for a reward that dies with the season, but one that lasts forever. The crown up for grabs is one that neither tarnish nor time can touch. Running and fighting for God means looking to a reward that will not be taken away. Take Hold of Eternal Life Paul sharpens this focus in 1 Timothy 6:12: “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (ESV) The “prize” here is eternal life. But notice the language: “Take hold.” Eternal life is not just a future promise; it is a present possession and pursuit. Paul exhorts Timothy not only to wait passively for heaven, but to actively grasp life in Christ now—living with the knowledge and hope that eternity shapes every decision and every battle. Taking hold means living like eternal life truly matters. It means refusing to settle for lesser joys and temporary distractions. It means believing that God’s promises are worth so much more than anything the world offers. Pressing On For Christ The heartbeat of Paul’s pursuit pulses in Philippians 3:12–14: “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (ESV) Paul’s “one thing” is clear—his whole life is aimed at “the goal for the prize of the upward call.” What is that prize? Simply and profoundly: Christ himself. Membership in God’s family, union with Christ, the promise of resurrection and glory at his coming. Paul’s relentless pursuit is not slavish religious duty, but the joyful chase after Jesus—the One who first laid hold of him. This shapes everything: Paul runs and fights not to earn God’s favor, but because he belongs to Christ. The effort of faith, the pain of discipline, the weariness of endurance, all find meaning in the pursuit of a Person and a promise. Keeping the Faith Until the Finish Line Paul’s well-known testimony in 2 Timothy 4:7–8 anchors the metaphor: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day—and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.” (ESV) Finishing the race and fighting the good fight culminate in this: keeping the faith until the very end. The reward? The “crown of righteousness”—an unperishable promise of full acceptance, final transformation, and divine approval in Christ. But importantly, this crown is promised to all who love Jesus and endure in longing for his return—every man who truly runs and fights for Him. Integrating the Metaphors: The True Prize Race and fight, though different in imagery, are united in purpose: the goal is enduring, unshakable life with Christ. Moral effort, unchecked, spits out either pride or despair. But effort rooted in gospel hope keeps men running hard—not to gain acceptance, but because they already possess it in Christ. The finish line is not a vague perfection, but the face of Jesus and the fullness of his promised reward. Application: Evaluating Your Pursuit Exercise: Take a moment and write down your top five current life goals. Career, family, hobbies, fitness, finances, reputation—be honest with yourself. Now evaluate: which of these goals actually aligns with the “imperishable wreath” promised to those who run for Christ? Which are worth relentless pursuit—and which are fading crowns, tempting you to invest energy that won’t matter in eternity? Be honest. Every man has chased lesser prizes. Comfort. Security. Applause. Image. But the gospel calls us out of pursuing good things as ultimate things—and into pursuing Christ as the greatest treasure. Pastoral Edge: To men, especially: Don’t run for a fading laurel. The world applauds effort—at work, in sports, in social circles—and the praise feels wonderful, but it fades. God’s call is better: chase the prize that lasts, the joy that endures, the crown that doesn’t wilt. Defining your life’s race and fight by Christ’s prize will change your daily choices—what you train for, what you resist, what you endure, what you hope for. Ask yourself: What crown am I running for each day? Whose approval do I really seek? Is my energy spent chasing what cannot last, or invested in what cannot die?  Let your running and your fighting be shaped by hope, not moralism. Pursue Christ—who first pursued you. The finish line is not only relief from the struggle, but embrace by the Savior who delights to crown his sons with life that never ends.