A few years ago, back in 2021, I found myself in a place few knew I was in. We were all still living fairly isolated lives. I had spiraled to a dark place, my perspective on life was tainted by anxiety and depression. To be honest, on the outside nothing looked particularly dramatic. Life was moving, responsibilities were being met, and if someone asked me how I was doing I probably would have answered: “I’m fine.”
But internally things felt heavy.
I was struggling with loss of relationship, anxiety from isolation and absolute fear of the future. Honestly, I was quietly convinced that life was mostly happening to me rather than something I was walking through with God. I didn’t have language for it at the time, but looking back now I can see that I had started living with a subtle sense of victim-thinking.
And then one night, I dove head first into the book of Philippians. It’s a long story, and you can read the whole thing in my book which is available by clicking here. Or if you prefer just hearing it before committing to a book… click here to watch a video where I share the whole story. This was a special event where I got to facilitate a session where women shared their testimonies, and I also got to share a bit of mine.
But basically, I had enough. They say that change only happens when the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of change. And I was there. Change was painful, but it didn’t hurt as much as staying in that dark place.
What I encountered through the apostle Paul in Philippians didn’t necessarily comfort me. It confronted me. His perspective felt almost inappropriate compared to his reality. This man was imprisoned, uncertain of his future, opposed, misunderstood… and yet joy kept surfacing in his words.
That journey eventually became my book Unconventional Joy. But long before it was ever a book, Philippians became the place where my mindset began to change. I learned that joy is not found when my circumstances improve. Joy is found when my perspective on my circumstances changes.
Reading the Letter Honestly
It’s easy to read Scripture as if it its words were written in a beautiful and peaceful setting. We imagine the writer calm, reflective, perhaps sitting somewhere quiet. Contemplating his deep thoughts as he writes them down for us to learn from. Philippians does not come from that kind of place.
Paul writes this letter from Roman imprisonment. His movement is restricted and his future is uncertain. His life could realistically end soon. The early church is facing opposition and he cannot travel freely to help them. He is being treated unfairly. I’m sure we can all relate to the feeling.
Yet, the one thing that keeps appearing in his writing, is joy.
Which means when Paul is writing this letter and he’s giving us insight on how to live, he’s not describing a certain personality type. He is describing a way of seeing. Philippians does not teach us how to avoid difficulty. It teaches us how to recognize Jesus within it.
And that is where my own thinking began to unravel a bit.
What do you see?
Most of my prayers back then were centered around escape. All I wanted was a bit of relief. I wanted everything to go away. I wanted answers. If the heaviness could just lift so I could finally feel okay again. All I really wanted was peace, and honestly, I assumed it would come once the situation changed. And that was my greatest frustration – there was just no sign of the situation changing.
Paul seemed to assume the opposite though.
He writes this in Philippians 1:12–14 NLT:
And I want you to know, my dear brothers and sisters, that everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News. For everyone here, including the whole palace guard, knows that I am in chains because of Christ. And because of my imprisonment, most of the believers here have gained confidence and boldly speak God’s message without fear.
I remember reading that and feeling completely confused. I had no reference for this kind of outlook on life. You’ll notice though, that Paul doesn’t deny difficulty. He doesn’t pretend prison is pleasant. But he also refuses to interpret it as something meaningless. He looks at the exact same situation and sees something entirely different from what I would have seen.
Where I would have seen delay, he saw direction.
Where I would have seen limitation, he saw opportunity.
Where I would have seen injustice, he saw purpose.
The fact that he was in chains forced conversations that would never have happened otherwise. Guards heard about Jesus simply because they were stuck next to him. And fellow believers gained courage simply because they watched him endure suffering after suffering. Paul’s life with God had not paused just because he encountered some difficulty.
And I slowly realized something I had never truly considered before. I was waiting for my circumstances to change before I believed God was working. Paul believed God was working, and therefore interpreted his circumstances differently. It wasn’t that his situation was good. It was that God was still present inside it, and He is good.
That’s perspective for you, isn’t it?
We often assume meaning comes after deliverance, but Paul lived as though meaning could exist before it. That thought began loosening something inside of me. Maybe the question wasn’t “How do I get out of this?” but rather “Where is Jesus in this?”
What if I can’t lose?
A little later in the chapter Paul says something even more startling:
On the contrary, everything happening to me in this jail only serves to make Christ more accurately known, regardless of whether I live or die. They didn’t shut me up; they gave me a platform! Alive, I’m Christ’s messenger; dead, I’m his prize. Life versus even more life! I can’t lose. – Philippians 1:20–21 MSG
Listen, I had to sit with that one for a long time.
Most of my anxiety came from imagining negative outcomes. What if things didn’t work out? What if relationships stayed broken? What if the future didn’t look how I hoped? I would get stuck in thought-loop after thought-loop. It felt like I couldn’t break out of it.
Looking back, I see now that my peace was tied to my preferred endings. Paul’s peace, however, was tied to Christ being glorified. His only thought-loop was Jesus.
If he lived, Christ would be preached.
If he died, Christ would be gained.
So, in his mind, there was no negative outcome. He was basically replaying different versions of victory, whereas I was playing out disaster after disaster. Paul wasn’t optimistic because his life was somehow predictable. And he certainly wasn’t optimistic because he had it easy in life. He had this radical outlook because his definition of winning was different.
And honestly, I think that’s the moment Philippians began shifting me.
I had been measuring my life by my comfort. Paul measured his life by his closeness to Jesus. I had been asking whether things were going my way. Paul was asking whether Christ was being revealed. Those are very different questions. It’s funny how you can read something in scripture over and over again and get so used to hearing it, it doesn’t impact you anymore. I have read these scriptures in Philippians so many times before, and yet my life didn’t reflect it. I was focused on what was comfortable, instead of keeping my eyes on Jesus.
When comfort is the goal, life starts to feel fragile. Every disruption shakes you. Every delay feels threatening. Every unknown future becomes something fearful. But when Christ is the goal, even uncertainty becomes filled with purpose.
Paul is not celebrating suffering and he’s not telling you to either. He is celebrating that nothing can remove him from the purpose of knowing and revealing Jesus. His joy isn’t rooted in prison bars or persecution, but in the unchanging presence of God within them.
After reading this again and again and again… my prayers began slowly changing too.
Less “God please fix this.”
More “God help me see You here.”
Less waiting for life to start again.
More noticing that He had never left.
Nothing is wasted
What I love most about everything Paul is writing, is that he never teaches denial. He never tells believers hardship isn’t real. Instead, he consistently redirects their attention. Yes, challenges are happening, but remember to lift your eyes.
Because having perspective doesn’t erase the pain. It simply repositions it. The difficulty remains, but it stops impacting the lens through which you view your entire life. One of the things I truly feared back then was that I would just remain stuck in that space. That life couldn’t move forward until resolution came. And not just resolution, but resolution the way I imagined it.
But the truth is, God wastes nothing. Not waiting seasons, not uncertainty and not even emotional struggles. When Jesus becomes the center point of our lives, every moment still holds potential meaning. Whether it is the most difficult moment of your life, or the greatest victory you’ve ever experienced.
Paul didn’t wait for freedom to live faithfully. He lived faithfully in confinement, and freedom of heart followed.
It’s a process
I won’t pretend my mindset changed overnight. It certainly didn’t. Perspective rarely shifts dramatically in one singular moment. It tends to shift quietly, repeatedly, through returning to truth again and again.
But over time, I noticed something.
My circumstances didn’t necessarily improved or change… and yet, things started to feel different. It wasn’t as heavy as before. Something was starting to shift. Not because all the answers I was hoping for suddenly arrived. But because my focus shifted. Instead of staring only at all the heaviness that surrounded me, I started looking for Jesus within it. And strangely, the more I saw Him present, the less powerless I felt.
The situation had not lost its difficulty, but it certainly lost its authority.
That is the invitation Paul quietly extends to each and every one of us through Philippians. Not to deny hardship, not to force happiness, but to anchor our lives in Jesus rather than the circumstances we might find ourselves in.
Joy is not pretending life is easy.
Joy is knowing God remains near.
Change the question
If you find yourself in a season that feels uncertain or filled with heaviness, maybe start where I had to start. Not by solving everything first, but by starting to ask a different question. Maybe it’s time to stop asking: “When will this end?” and to perhaps start asking: “Where is Jesus in this moment?”
I encourage you to dive into Philippians chapter 1 and take one, single verse and carry it with you this week. Let it interrupt your thoughts when your mind spirals into outcomes you cannot control. Perspective rarely changes in one realization. It changes in small moments of returning your gaze.
Philippians did that for me in 2021. It gently pulled me out of seeing myself as trapped by my circumstances and taught me how to walk with Jesus within them. That journey eventually became Unconventional Joy, but more importantly it became a new way of living.
Because Paul’s life proves something powerful:
You may not be free from your situation… but your perspective certainly can be.
Get your copy of Unconventional Joy here. R100 shipping anywhere in SA (Aramex – only one shipping fee per order). Also available on Kindle.
