Finding Peace in Uncertainty: A Story of Faith & Gratitude
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. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. — Philippians 4:6-7
These words have always been a source of comfort, a reassurance in life’s uncertainties. But that Wednesday afternoon, I would discover just how deeply I needed them.
Some battles come without warning, appearing in the most ordinary places—a pharmacy counter, a routine errand, an unexpected bill. It was just an ordinary Wednesday when I stopped at CVS to pick up a refill for one of my diabetes medications. My discount card and insurance had kept the cost manageable, and as I waited in line, I mentally noted the $25 it would take from my budget—a small price for the stability this medicine provided. But when the pharmacist scanned my prescription and looked up, her expression told me something was different.
“Your total today is $314,” she said, her voice calm but matter-of-fact. I blinked, certain I’d misheard, or perhaps there was a mistake in their system. This medicine, which had a cash price of $600 a month, was always available to me for a manageable $25 with my discount card. For me, it was practically a miracle in a bottle, one that had given me control over my blood sugar when nothing else seemed to work. But now, staring down this $314 price tag, I found myself gripped by the unsettling thought that this small miracle—something I’d come to depend on—might slip out of reach.
I left the pharmacy empty-handed and sat in the car for a while, staring at the steering wheel. I didn’t feel anger right away—just a hollow frustration, a creeping worry. So much in life depends on health, and here was a simple bottle of medication threatening to upend everything. I knew all too well the grim consequences of uncontrolled blood sugar—the toll it would take on my body and the way it could shorten my years on earth. The thought of leaving my dear wife, my children, and my grandsons too soon weighed heavily on me.
Determined to get answers, I drove home and spent nearly an hour navigating the endless loops of hold music—annoying, repetitive tunes that only added to my frustration—as I tried to reach someone at AstraZeneca.
Finally, a voice on the other end of the line confirmed it: the new price was, indeed, $314 a month. No explanation, no further discount. But in a twist of logic I could hardly believe, the representative mentioned that if I didn’t have insurance at all, I might be eligible to receive it for free. The absurdity of that statement nearly took my breath away. I was caught between laughing and crying. “Sure, why not?” I thought, picturing myself handing over my wallet and car keys just to cover a month’s supply.
“So, let me get this straight,” I thought as the representative explained the new price, “I can get it for free if I have no insurance, but if I do, it’s $314? Fascinating logic.” Right then, I realized I’d just found a new story to share with my economics classes—one they’d be hearing this year and probably for years to come. But even as I considered the irony of it all, a deeper realization began to take hold. Slowly, my mind started to clear, and the worry softened. My thoughts shifted from what I was losing to all the things I still had. The faces of my family came into focus—my wife, who has walked through so many of life’s highs and lows by my side; my children, each of them smart, kind, and navigating their own paths with strength; and my grandsons, who bring a light into my life that nothing else can quite match. I couldn’t think of them without a smile breaking through.
It was then that the words of Philippians came to mind: 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. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. As I remembered those words, I realized that my prayers in that moment weren’t just about asking for a way to fix things, but about giving thanks for all the ways God had already provided. I let the gratitude fill me, and with it, the unexplainable peace that the verse promised began to settle in my heart. The anxiety that had seemed so overwhelming began to lose its grip, replaced by a sense of calm that could only come from God.
I thought of the friends who’ve become like family, the shared laughter, the long talks, the quiet reassurance of their presence. And then my mind drifted to my students, the funny, bright, sometimes exasperating teens who fill my days with meaning. Just that morning, one of them had sent a message that made me pause:
“I believe your class is the most interesting one I’ve ever taken. You make things relatable with all your metaphors and analogies. You teach in a way that makes sense.”
In that moment, the weight of the day lifted. Here was something real, something good. Money and medicine are necessities, sure, but they weren’t everything. They weren’t my reason to keep going; that reason was in the faces of my family, my friends, my students, and the love of God who has always provided for our needs.
So I went back to CVS, paid the $314, and didn’t look back. On the way home, I stopped at Kroger and picked up some flowers for Becky and Kelsey, a small gift to celebrate the people who give me joy and make the battles worth fighting. As I waited to check out, holding two bunches of flowers, Paul’s words to the Philippians came to mind like a lifeline in the middle of my worry: “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.”
That day, I realized that these battles we face are often less about what we think we’re losing and more about what we still have. Worry and frustration will come, but I know where to turn: back to these blessings, back to what’s excellent and praiseworthy. For me, that’s the only way I—and I know many others—can keep going.
“I don’t know where this finds you, but if you’re facing a battle of your own, remember what’s good, what’s true, and what’s lasting. We may not choose the struggles, but we can choose to turn to the God who can keep us standing firm.”