Think on Purpose

You Don’t Have to Believe Every Thought You Think

I have been carrying around some words from the Apostle Paul for a long time and even stood up at a wedding and read them aloud.

“Finally, brothers and sisters, 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.”
— Philippians 4:8

Think about such things.

That sounds simple.

But I’m beginning to believe there is an incredibly important instruction hidden inside those four words:

Think on purpose.

A Thought Is Not the Same Thing as Thinking

There is a difference between a thought and thinking.

Thoughts can simply arrive. Unwelcome. Random.

What if something happens?
What if they’re upset with me?
What if I made the wrong decision?
What if this doesn’t work out?
What if the worst happens?

Our minds can grab hold of the could-bes and what-ifs before we’ve even had time to examine them.

And then something dangerous happens.

We begin treating a possibility as though it were a fact.

We turn an assumption into a conclusion.

We turn a fear into a forecast.

And before long, we are emotionally responding to something that hasn’t even happened—and may never happen.

Maybe that’s why Paul’s first filter is so important:

Whatever is TRUE.

Before following a thought down the rabbit hole, stop and ask:

Is this actually true?

Not: Could it happen?

Not: Am I afraid it might happen?

Not: Does it feel true?

What do I actually know?

Sometimes one of the most powerful things we can do when anxiety begins spinning a story is separate facts from interpretations.

Imagine I call someone and they don’t call me back.

The fact?

I called. They haven’t called me back yet.

That’s it.

But my mind might start writing an entire screenplay:

They’re mad at me.

I shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe they don’t like me anymore.

Something must be wrong.

None of those things are facts.

They’re stories I’ve attached to the facts.

And I can torment myself over a story I wrote myself.

Paul’s Filter

Paul doesn’t stop with true.

He gives us an entire framework:

Is it true?

Is it noble?

The Greek word translated noble is semnos—something honorable, dignified, or worthy of respect.

Is it right?

Does this thought agree with what God calls good and righteous?

Is it pure?

What is this thought producing in my heart?

Is it lovely?

Is it moving me toward love, grace, gratitude, compassion, and beauty?

Is it admirable?

Is this something worthy of dwelling upon?

Is it excellent or praiseworthy?

Does continuing to rehearse this thought draw my attention toward what is good and toward the character of God?

If the thought cannot survive those questions, maybe it doesn’t deserve free rent in my mind.

Love Believes the Best

Another truth that has helped me tremendously is this:

Love believes the best.

That doesn’t mean becoming naïve.

It doesn’t mean ignoring reality, excusing harmful behavior, or pretending everything is fine when it isn’t.

It means refusing to assign the worst possible motive to someone when I don’t actually know their motive.

It means leaving room for grace.

Maybe they didn’t call because they’re busy.

Maybe the expression on their face had nothing to do with me.

Maybe that short text wasn’t anger.

Maybe I misunderstood.

Maybe I simply don’t know yet.

There is enormous freedom in being able to say:

I don’t know enough to reach that conclusion.

Get Above the Thought

This may be one of the most important practices I am learning:

Get above the thought and think about your thinking.

Instead of allowing every thought to become your truth, observe it.

Hold it up.

Examine it.

Ask:

Where did this come from?

Is it true?

Am I dealing with a fact—or imagining something?

Does this agree with the Word of God?

Is fear interpreting this situation for me, or is faith?

What would love believe here?

And perhaps most importantly:

What does God say?

Because my feelings are real, but they are not always reliable interpreters of reality.

My fears can be loud.

God’s truth is greater.

The God I am trusting has this, He is the God who spoke creation into existence. I have access to His presence, His wisdom, His truth, His strength, and His peace.

So when my mind begins racing toward the worst possible ending, I can interrupt it.

I don’t have to follow every thought wherever it wants to take me.

I can bring it back to truth.

Think On Purpose

Paul doesn’t say, Hope your mind happens to wander toward lovely things.

He says:

Think about such things.

There is intention in that.

There is participation in that.

There is choice in that.

I may not always control the first thought that enters my mind.

But I can decide whether I’m going to build it a house and let it live there.

I can choose what I rehearse.

I can choose what I magnify.

I can choose to believe the best until I have facts that tell me otherwise.

And when anxiety begins whispering, What if? What if? What if?

I can answer with another question:

What is true?

Then I can take my mind back to what is noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and worthy of praise.

That’s more than positive thinking.

That’s thinking on purpose.

And sometimes covering something with love begins by covering our own thoughts with truth.

Above all, love each other deeply. — 1 Peter 4:8

Cover It With Love
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