“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life” (Pr 4:23).
According to Solomon, the heart directs the course of everything else. Like the source of a river, the heart shapes our words, our actions, and our decisions. What flows from the heart determines the quality and direction of our entire lives.
To neglect the heart is to leave ourselves vulnerable to all kinds of spiritual dangers. Jesus said, “What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person” (Mt 15:18–19). He also said, “The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks” (Lk 6:45).
When David repented in Psalm 51, he prayed, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Ps 51:10). He understood that his greatest need was not a change in behavior but a transformation of his innermost being. If his heart was in the right place, everything else would follow. “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life” (Pr 4:23).
Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Mt 5:8).
Scripture places great emphasis on the heart. In fact, the new covenant is centered on God transforming the hearts of his people. Rather than simply repeating his laws and offering one more chance, God addresses the root of the problem. Through the prophet Ezekiel, he said, “You shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you” (Eze 36:25). How would he do this? “I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules” (Eze 36:26–27).
If all of life flows from the heart, then outward reform is not enough. Consider a car that isn’t running properly. You can replace the tires and wash the exterior, but that won’t fix the real issue. The problem is under the hood. And under the new covenant, God says, “You need a new transmission, and I will provide it.”
Yet even with new hearts, we still wrestle with the flesh. We face temptations. We are prone to wander. That is why Proverbs says, “Keep your heart with all vigilance” (Pr 4:23). Guard it. Watch over it. Protect it. Everything else flows from it.
John Flavel and the Wisdom of a Heart Kept in Danger
So then, how do we keep our hearts? According to John Flavel, there are practical approaches that vary with the seasons of life. Different circumstances call for different tools. In the coming weeks, we will consider the various seasons of life and how we might guard our hearts through each one.
Today, we begin by looking at how to keep the heart in a season of danger or fear. And as it happens, John Flavel knew something about living through such a time.
Flavel was an English pastor in the seventeenth century. Protestantism was the official religion of England, but the nation was marked by unrest and division. The Church of England held authority, but many believed that the church still needed further reform. This desire gave rise to a movement known as the Puritans. From within the Puritan tradition came various groups, including Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and Baptists.
Flavel was one of these Puritans. In 1662, at the age of thirty-five, he was serving as a minister when Parliament passed the Act of Uniformity. This law required all ministers to fully conform to the rites and ceremonies of the Church of England. As a result, nearly two thousand Puritan pastors were expelled from their pulpits in what became known as the Great Ejection. Flavel was among them. He could not in good conscience submit to the mandates of Parliament.
Though expelled, Flavel continued to shepherd his people, but he had to do so in secret. Preaching without a license was illegal. Ministers who defied the law could be fined or imprisoned. John Bunyan, author of The Pilgrim’s Progress, was imprisoned for twelve years for this very reason. It was a time of real danger. There was more than enough reason to live in fear.
Toward the end of his life, as government restrictions began to loosen and the Puritans gained greater freedom, Flavel wrote Keeping the Heart. By then, he was an older and more seasoned man, reflecting on a long and difficult season. He wrote not as a theorist but as someone who had walked through danger and fear, and who had learned how to keep his heart through it.
Keeping the Heart in Seasons of Danger and Fear
God, in his providence, has spared you and me from the kind of persecution the Puritans endured. But that does not mean we are unfamiliar with seasons of danger or fear. Think back to the first month of the COVID-19 pandemic. The sense of uncertainty and anxiety was overwhelming for many.
I recently watched a documentary about the Cuban Missile Crisis in the 1960s. At the height of that standoff, there were people who went to bed genuinely believing the United States was about to enter a nuclear war with the Soviet Union. Fear was palpable.
Do you remember how you felt on September 11, 2001?
And, of course, fear is not always tied to national or global events. More often, it is deeply personal—a cancer diagnosis, the loss of a job, the death of a spouse or a child. The truth is, we are never far from the possibility of tragedy. We are always just one step away from sorrow.
So the question is this: how do we keep our hearts when calamity strikes? How do we guard the core of who we are as God’s people when everything falls apart—or threatens to? How do we remain steadfast in a season of danger or fear?
John Flavel offers fourteen practical ways to keep or guard the heart in such times. For the sake of time, I will move through them quickly, but my aim is to capture the essence of each one.
1. Rest in God’s sovereignty.
One of the primary reasons we become anxious or afraid is that we lose sight of who is in control. We read the headlines. We feel the pressure. We experience the loss. And we begin to think everything is spiraling into chaos. But that is not true.
God is sovereign. In Isaiah 46, the Lord declares, “I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose’” (Isa 46:9–10).
God alone rules over every creature, every event, and every molecule in the universe. He does not respond to history. He writes it.
In Ezekiel 1, the prophet is given a vision that is difficult to describe. He sees a violent storm approaching. Within the storm are four living creatures, each with four faces and four wings. They appear to be on fire and flash like lightning. Then he sees a wheel within a wheel, capable of moving in every direction without turning. The entire scene is overwhelming and chaotic. But then Ezekiel looks up. Above it all is a throne. And seated on the throne is one who has “the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD” (Eze 1:28).
This is a picture of our world. From where we stand, life often seems confusing and out of control. But above it all is a throne. God is seated upon it. He reigns over everything we see. We may not understand what he is doing or why, but we can be sure he is in control. And more than that, we can be sure he has a purpose.
So when life feels like it is galloping on a red horse of war or a black horse of death, as described in Revelation, remember that those horses are not running wild. The Lord holds the reins. “He upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb 1:3).
God’s sovereignty does not mean life will always be easy. It does not mean we will escape hardship or danger. But it does mean that every hardship has a purpose, and none of it lies outside of God’s control. Our Father in heaven is sovereign. And he is not only sovereign—he is good. Which brings us to our second point.
2. See God as your Father.
Flavel gives the illustration of a man with a sword. Imagine you step outside and see a stranger standing there with a sword. You would likely feel alarmed, even afraid. But now imagine that same scene, except the man is your husband or your father. You might be surprised or curious, but you would not be afraid. Why? Because you trust him. You know his heart. You know he loves you. So, the sword in his hand doesn’t carry the same threat.
That is the difference between looking at the world through fear or faith.
If God were distant or impersonal—if he were some arbitrary, supernatural dictator—then his power might only add to our fear. But he is not. He is our Father. Paul writes, “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (Ro 8:15–16).
The same God who laid the foundations of the earth says, “He who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine’” (Isa 43:1).
Jesus tells us that God the Father knows every hair on our heads. No one knows us better. No one loves us more. So what reason do we have to fear?
3. Remember the commandments of Christ.
This one may sting a little, but it is important. The Lord commands us not to be afraid. He knows exactly what we face in this life. He understands the dangers and the threats. And yet, he says, “Do not fear.”
In Matthew 10 alone, Jesus gives this command at least three times. Beginning in verse 26, he says:
“So have no fear of them [those who persecute you], for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven” (Mt 10:26–33).
We have a choice. We can fear God, or we can fear something else. But Jesus says, “Do not fear something else.” If we fear God, we have no reason to fear anything else.
And let us be clear—Jesus is not coldly shouting commands at his frightened disciples. This is not the harsh voice of a drill sergeant. This is the voice of the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep.
4. Remember how much time you’ve wasted with fear.
Think back over your life. No doubt you’ve had many fears. Times when you expected the worst. Maybe you couldn’t sleep or lost your appetite because of worry. But ask yourself—did your fear help you?
In most cases, the thing you feared never happened.
Listen to what the Lord says in Isaiah 51:13–14:
“I, I am he who comforts you; who are you that you are afraid of man who dies, of the son of man who is made like grass, and have forgotten the LORD, your Maker, who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth, and you fear continually all the day because of the wrath of the oppressor, when he sets himself to destroy? And where is the wrath of the oppressor?” (Isa 51:13–14)
In other words, you’ve been worried sick all day, but what happened? Where is the danger you were so afraid of? It never came.
Of course, sometimes the thing we fear really does come. The war begins. The diagnosis is given. A loved one dies. But even then, we often find that our fear was larger than the trouble itself. Fear multiplies the pain. It amplifies the suffering. It makes the weight twice as heavy.
All the while, God is gently calling to us: “Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you” (Ps 55:22).
5. Sinful fear is worse than what you fear.
Fear, in itself, does more harm than the danger it anticipates. God tells us not to fear, so when we give in to it, we dishonor him. We disobey him. Fear clouds our judgment. It opens the door to greater temptation.
Think of the Israelites at the Red Sea. God had just delivered them from Egypt, but when they saw Pharaoh’s army pursuing them, they panicked. They cried out in fear. They questioned Moses, and they questioned God. When they looked at the sea, they assumed it would be their grave. Either the Egyptians would crush them, or the waters would drown them.
But what happened? That very sea, by the power of God, became their pathway of deliverance.
How familiar that sounds. We see potential danger, assume the worst, and our trust in God unravels.
In Exodus 14, Moses speaks to the people: “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent” (Ex 14:13–14). There is a gentle rebuke in that final line—“you have only to be silent.”
This kind of fear is not harmless. It is sinful. And it often does more damage to our hearts and souls than the danger itself. It robs us of peace. And it robs God of the glory he deserves.
So, what do we do instead?
6. Rest on God’s promises.
This may be the most important point Flavel makes. God has given us precious, solid, unshakable promises. These promises are for every season of life, but they are especially vital in times of danger or fear.
Consider Romans 8:28: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” And what is the context of that promise? Paul writes, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Ro 8:35, 37).
In Genesis 32, Jacob learns that he will soon meet his brother Esau. The last time he saw Esau, his brother had threatened to kill him. So Jacob is terrified. That same night, he wrestles with God. But before the wrestling, he prays: “Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, that he may come and attack me … But you said, ‘I will surely do you good’” (Ge 32:11–12).
Do you see what Jacob does? He knows God’s promise. Even though he is afraid, he takes that promise back to God in prayer. He reminds himself of what God has said. He clings to the promise while pleading with God to fulfill it. He preaches the promise to his own soul.
So when fear comes, do the same. Rest on God’s promises.
7. Remember God’s faithfulness.
This is something we easily forget when fear grips us. In those moments, all we can see is the threat in front of us. But Scripture calls us to remember—remember who God is and what he has already done.
Think of David before he faced Goliath. He didn’t rely on self-confidence or inner strength. He didn’t say, I’ve got this. Instead, he looked back. Specifically, he looked back at the Lord’s past faithfulness. In 1 Samuel 17, he says to King Saul, “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine” (1Sa 17:37). David wasn’t afraid of Goliath because he had seen what God could do. And that gave him confidence for what lay ahead. His reasoning was simple: God helped me before. Why would he stop now?
Paul speaks the same way in 2 Corinthians 1. He writes, “[God] delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again” (2Co 1:10). Like David, Paul’s trust in God’s future help is rooted in God’s past faithfulness.
So take time to look back over your own life. Recall the moments when you were afraid and unsure how things would turn out. Yet here you are. The Lord sustained you. Maybe the outcome wasn’t what you expected, but God carried you through. You can say with David, “This I know, that God is for me” (Ps 56:9).
8. Find courage in obedience.
When your heart feels unsettled—when anxiety creeps in and the future looks uncertain—it helps to ask, “Am I walking in obedience to God? Am I doing what he’s called me to do?”
If you can, in good conscience, answer yes, then take courage. Peter writes, “Who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good?” (1Pe 3:13). Just one chapter later, he says, “Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good” (1Pe 4:19).
Obedience does not exempt us from suffering. But it does give us confidence in the midst of it. It is much easier to face hardship when you know you’re walking in step with the Lord.
Martin Luther is a powerful example. At the Diet of Worms, he was ordered to recant his teachings or face punishment. His response? “Here I stand. I can do no other.” And where was he standing? On the Word of God. Though he faced the threat of torture and death, he had tremendous courage because he knew he was obeying God.
As the psalmist writes, “The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?” (Ps 118:6)
And this leads us directly into the next point.
9. Repent of sin so your conscience can be clean.
When Cain killed his brother Abel in Genesis 4, his immediate response was, “Whoever finds me will kill me” (Ge 4:14). The same man who had boldly defied God and ignored his warnings was suddenly timid, anxious, and paranoid. That is what sin—and the guilt that follows—does to the heart. It weakens us. It robs us of courage.
As Flavel writes, “A guilty conscience is more terrified with imagined dangers than a pure conscience is with real ones.”
We see this again with Herod in the New Testament. After ordering the death of John the Baptist, Herod later hears about Jesus and his miracles. And what does he say? He becomes convinced that John has come back from the dead. That is the voice of guilt.
When your heart is weighed down with guilt, even small troubles feel enormous. But when your conscience is clean—when you are at peace with God—even the greatest dangers lose their power to shake you. “The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion” (Pr 28:1).
So if your heart is trembling, ask yourself, “Is there sin I need to confess? Do I need to repent? Do I need to turn to God for forgiveness?” If so, do not hesitate. Run to him. Confess your sin. Turn from it. “How much more will the blood of Christ … purify our conscience” (Heb 9:14).
10. Trust God with your life.
Flavel refers to this as exercising holy trust. It’s a fitting phrase. This is not vague optimism or wishful thinking. It is a deliberate act of faith. It is saying to God, “I’m not in control, but you are.”
This is what David does in Psalm 56: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Ps 56:3). It is what Isaiah describes when he writes, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you” (Isa 26:3).
Why wouldn’t we trust him? Our God is sovereign—he rules over every moment. And he is also our Heavenly Father who delights in doing good for his children. So rather than fixate on the dangers in front of us, we fix our minds on his promises. We meditate on them. We dwell on them.
To trust God with your life is not passive. It is an active, ongoing turning of your heart toward him—believing that he is both able and willing to care for you in every circumstance.
11. Consider what your fear says to the world.
Flavel asks, “Do you think it is for the honor of the faith that Christians should be as fearful as hares, jumping at every sound?”
He’s not telling us to fake courage. He’s reminding us that our actions preach. When the world sees believers panicking or falling into despair, what will they conclude about our faith—and more importantly, about our God?
Think of Peter, who denied even knowing Christ at his arrest. When those around him saw one of Jesus’ own disciples shrink back in fear, they had all the more reason to question the truth of Jesus’ claims.
Now consider the contrast. Think again of David before his fight with Goliath. While the rest of Israel trembled, David stepped forward and said, “Who is this guy? He has defied the armies of the living God” (1Sa 17:36). He would not let anyone go on believing that God was powerless to protect his people.
Or look at Nehemiah. When his enemies tried to intimidate him in Nehemiah 6, he refused to run. He said, “Should such a man as I run away?” (Ne 6:11). Should a man who fears God fear men? Should a servant of the Lord flee when danger comes?
The world is watching. Our children are watching. And what we do—or fail to do—tells them something about the God we claim to trust.
12. Rest in your eternal inheritance.
If you are forever safe in Christ, what do you truly have to fear?
Jesus said, “I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do. But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him!” (Lk 12:4–5).
That is the warning. But Scripture also gives us many promises framed in the positive. Paul writes, “[Nothing] will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Ro 8:39).
The Bible does not ignore pain or deny the reality of death. It never tells us that life will be easy. But it does insist that pain is not the worst thing that can happen, and death is not the end. Yes, our bodies may be destroyed. Yes, we will die. But those who are in Christ will then stand face-to-face with their Savior.
Paul said, “Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Php 1:20–21).
As hard as life may be, as frightening as death may seem, the Christian will never see hell. For the believer, this life is as close to hell as they will ever be. And when it ends, they will enter paradise and dwell forever with the Lord.
Remember that. Rest in it.
13. Fear the Lord instead of everything else.
As we saw in Luke 12, we are not called to fear the world or our circumstances. We are called to fear God.
Flavel illustrates this beautifully when he says that the best way to put out a fire is not to blow on it but to pour water on it. In the same way, the best way to put out sinful fear is to replace it with holy fear—that is, fear of the Lord.
This is not a crippling or paralyzing fear. It is awe. It is reverence. It is the deep recognition that God is absolutely holy and must not be treated lightly. Isaiah writes, “Do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. But the LORD of hosts, him you shall honor as holy. Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread” (Isa 8:12–13).
Do you see the exchange? We are not simply told to stop being afraid. We are told to trade a lesser fear for a greater one. When we fear the Lord rightly, our fear of man and fear of danger begin to lose their grip. Why? Because we become more afraid of dishonoring God than of losing our comfort. We become more concerned with remaining faithful than with remaining safe.
So don’t let your fears push you into a corner. Let them push you toward your Heavenly Father.
14. Pray.
When your heart is heavy, don’t dwell on your fears—take them to God. Cast your cares on him. Talk to him about them. That’s what Hannah did in 1 Samuel 1 when she was distressed. That’s what David did again and again throughout the Psalms. That’s what Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Think about that. Jesus Christ—the Son of God, God incarnate—fell to his knees in desperate prayer as he faced the suffering to come. He cried out to his Father. Hebrews 5:7 says, “Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence” (Heb 5:7).
And what happened after Jesus prayed? The danger remained. He still went to the cross. But he went to the cross. Prayer didn’t remove the suffering, but it replaced inner turmoil with peace.
Paul writes, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Php 4:6–7).
That brings us back to where we began: “Keep your heart with all vigilance” (Pr 4:23). According to Paul, prayer is the very tool we need to guard our hearts. So pray—pray continually, pray persistently. Don’t face your fears alone. Go to God, and he will give you peace. He will guard your heart.
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