By Rob Sellitto, Kentro Christian Network

I am not a morning person. I admire morning people, the way they hop out of bed at 5:00 a.m., eat breakfast, work out, pray, plan their day, and accomplish more before sunrise than I manage by noon.

It’s not that I don’t know the benefits. Morning people are quick to tell you how much better life is before 7:00 a.m. But knowing the benefits and living them are two different things. One unintended consequence of my struggle over the years has been the frantic chaos of getting school-aged kids, who inherited my disdain for mornings, to a school that starts before 8:30 a.m. Add breakfast, lunch packing, and a dog that needs a walk, and most mornings quickly devolve into a chaotic mess.

Too often, that chaotic mess lingers. I find myself on edge for the rest of the day, missing opportunities to enjoy what could have been.

Chaos has a way of lingering, robbing us of joy long after the moment has passed.

Perhaps you can’t relate to chaotic mornings. But you may know the email that changes everything. The funding that falls through. The visa unexpectedly denied. The flood that wipes out fields ready for harvest. Plans shift. Governments change. Costs rise. Progress stalls.

Chaos casts a long shadow in our world.

Our stories differ, but we all face seasons when instability presses in. And in those moments we face a choice: Will chaos define our days? Or will we find joy in spite of it all?

Across Kentro’s network, many serve faithfully where instability is common and uncertainty is constant. In those places, joy becomes more than a personality trait, it becomes a spiritual act of resistance.

This is why Paul’s words in Philippians 4 feel so striking to me. When Paul wrote these words he was not at a comfortable desk at home like I am as I write my words, but he was in prison. Still he wrote:

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.” (Philippians 4:4–6)

Philippians reads almost like a field guide for joy in the midst of chaos.

Paul is not offering shallow optimism. He is not pretending life is simple. He is pointing us toward a deeper joy, one anchored not in circumstances, but in Christ.

He begins with an imperative: rejoice. Not because circumstances are easy, but because “the Lord is near.” Joy is possible because God is with us. Just as Jesus was in the boat with His disciples during the storm, He is with us in ours. In government unrest, difficult conversations, financial strain, or slow-moving progress. The chaos is real. But so is His presence.

Joy grows when we remember that.

Paul then turns to anxiety: “Do not be anxious about anything.” For many of us, that sounds unrealistic. There is global unrest, economic uncertainty, health concerns, and unknown futures we desperately want to know.

Paul is not dismissing concern or thoughtful planning. As people we are made to think ahead and plan. Some level of worry is natural and good. The Greek word Paul uses, merimnate (μεριμνᾶτε), carries the sense of being consumed or pulled apart by worry. It is not normal concern he warns against, but obsessive worry that saturates the heart.

When I think of the word, I think of the English word marinate. I love cooking and when you marinate something, if you let it sit long enough it will absorb the flavours it is surrounded by. Paul’s invitation is simple: don’t let your soul marinate in worry, it will flavour every part of you.

Instead, bring those concerns to God. Trade anxiety for prayer. Offer thanksgiving even before outcomes are clear. And what does God give in return? “The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

That is a remarkably generous exchange.

Finally, Paul focuses our attention: “(…) 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.” This is not pretending, or ignoring reality, this is refocusing our minds on what is true, but we sometimes forget. In a world saturated with crisis, joy is sustained by learning to notice the fingerprints of God, His kindness, His faithfulness, His quiet work that continues even when headlines suggest otherwise.

Joy is not something we stumble into once chaos subsides. Joy is something we practice in the midst of the chaos that may surround us.

We rejoice.
We pray.
We give thanks.
We refocus our minds.

In doing so, we state the claim that chaos does not have the final word, Christ does.

For many serving globally, chaos is not occasional, it is constant. The needs are overwhelming. The pressures are real. The path forward is rarely predictable. Yet Scripture reminds us that joy is not reserved for calm seasons. Joy is not the reward for finally getting through hardship. It is the gift of God’s presence in all circumstances.

Choosing joy does not mean denying grief or minimizing hardship. It means returning, again and again, to the truth that the Lord is near. It means lifting anxious hearts in prayer. It means allowing His peace to guard what feels fragile. And it means training our eyes to see that God is still at work.

Wherever you find yourself today, weary, uncertain, stretched thin, may you remember: joy is still possible. Not because everything is stable, but because Christ is faithful.

The chaos may be loud. But it does not get the final word.

Christ does, and we can hold onto joy in that.