Pastor Tricia's Ramblings

Philippians 1:3–11

Have you ever faced doubt or questioned a direction you thought God had clearly set before you? I have. Doubt creeps in quietly, like fog that settles over what once looked like a clear path. One moment you’re confident you’re exactly where God wants you, and the next you wonder if you’ve taken a wrong turn.

Recently, I’ve struggled with doubt about my direction in going back to school. On paper, it made sense. I prayed, sought counsel, and felt peace when I began. But as the months went by, doubt hit hard. Fear whispered, What if you can’t do what’s required? What if you fail? Family crises pulled at my attention. Plans around me shifted. By the end of my first term at Liberty, I carried the weight of wondering if I belonged there at all.

And then—God used a friend to confirm His calling. My friend in Ohio, dealing with her own struggles and crises, said something that she probably doesn’t even realize carried such weight. In one sentence, she affirmed that I was right where God wanted me. Her encouragement became a light breaking through my fog of doubt.

That’s the beauty of Christian community. God works through His people to remind us of His truth. And that’s exactly what Paul was doing for the believers in Philippi.

Paul’s Prayer of Overflowing Love

In Philippians 1:3–11, Paul writes:

“I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:3–6).

Paul is writing from prison. He’s under house arrest, chained, unable to move freely. And yet his words overflow with gratitude and love. Instead of focusing on his chains, he focuses on the believers in Philippi. Instead of dwelling on his hardships, he lifts his friends in prayer.

Can you picture it? Paul, confined and limited, yet his prayers break past walls and chains. He’s not just remembering them fondly—he’s thanking God for them with joy.

He goes on:

“And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God” (Philippians 1:9–11).

Paul isn’t praying for their comfort. He isn’t praying for their success. He’s praying that their love would overflow—like a waterfall, constantly pouring out, abundant and unending.

The Greek word Paul uses here is agape—God’s kind of love. It’s not a fleeting feeling or shallow affection. It’s a deliberate, self-giving, sacrificial love. It’s the kind of love Jesus demonstrated when He laid down His life for us. And Paul is praying that this love would overflow among the Philippians, shaping how they live and how they treat one another.

Why does this matter? Because Paul knew there was tension in Philippi. Later in the letter, he addresses two women—Euodia and Syntyche—who were at odds (Philippians 4:2). Division threatened to rob the church of its witness. Paul points them back to love as the cure. Love rooted in knowledge and discernment. Love that isn’t blind or careless, but wise and intentional.

When We Struggle With Direction

Paul’s words speak deeply into seasons of doubt. When I was wrestling with whether school was really what God wanted for me, I needed that reminder: God finishes what He starts. “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion” (Philippians 1:6).

That truth takes the pressure off me to have it all figured out. It reminds me that my job is obedience. God’s job is completion.

But God also reminded me through community—through a friend’s words—that I wasn’t walking alone. Just like Paul couldn’t physically be in Philippi but still poured into them through his prayers and letters, my friend in Ohio couldn’t be here in person. Yet her words reached across the miles, strengthening me right when I needed it most.

That’s how God designed the church. We aren’t meant to walk alone. We are meant to pray for each other, encourage each other, and remind each other of truth.

Love That Travels Beyond Distance

Paul’s love for the Philippians wasn’t diminished by distance. And neither is ours today.

My church family is an hour away. That means when someone breaks a foot or has a baby, I can’t always show up with a meal every day or be physically present as much as I would like. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love them. I can still pray. I can still call, send a card, or make the sacrifice to drive when I can.

Paul shows us that one of the most powerful ways we can love is through prayer. Even when we are far away, even when we can’t physically be there, prayer bridges the gap.

Think about it: we can serve strangers through prayer. We can pray for the overwhelmed mom wrangling kids in Walmart. We can pray for the people in a car wreck we pass on the highway. We can pray for the construction crew working in the hot sun by the road. They may never know we prayed, but God does. And He hears.

That’s the privilege we have as children of God. Distance doesn’t diminish the power of love. And prayer is one of the greatest ways we can love.

Abounding in Love With Knowledge and Discernment

Paul prays that the Philippians’ love would “abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment” (Philippians 1:9).

That phrase catches my attention. Love without knowledge can become shallow sentimentality. Love without discernment can become enabling or misplaced. Paul reminds us that real, Christlike love is rooted in wisdom. It is guided by truth.

Agape love doesn’t just feel—it acts. It chooses what is excellent. It seeks what is pure and blameless. It produces fruit that brings glory to God.

That challenges me. Because sometimes my “love” is more about convenience or emotion than about God’s glory. Sometimes I want to love when it’s easy, when it fits into my schedule, when it feels good. But Paul’s prayer reminds me that love is more than that. Love is a waterfall—pouring out even when it’s inconvenient, directed by knowledge, guided by discernment, overflowing with grace.

Who Can You Love Today?

So, who can you love today? Maybe it’s a card to a friend who feels forgotten. Maybe it’s a phone call to someone who’s been on your mind. Maybe it’s a prayer whispered for a stranger you pass.

Paul, chained in Rome, poured out love through prayer and encouragement. And his words still echo today, reminding us that God finishes what He starts, that His love overflows, and that distance is no barrier for His Spirit.

I don’t know where you are right now. Maybe you’re wrestling with doubt, like I have been. Maybe you’re feeling the weight of loneliness or distance. Maybe you’re questioning your direction. Hear Paul’s words afresh:

“I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6).

God isn’t done with you. The work He started in you—He will finish. And as you walk this path, let your love overflow. A waterfall of grace, pouring out onto others, guided by wisdom, bearing fruit that glorifies God.

Because love—real, Christlike love—always has eternal impact.