Naming Your Emotions Before God
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.—Psalm 62:8 (ESV)
This past summer, I found myself in a slower rhythm of life. Our daughter still had daily activities, but they were spaced in such a way that mornings felt unhurried. I didn’t have to watch the clock or rush her onto a bus. There was a gentle cadence to the day, and I enjoyed it deeply.
As the school year approached, however, I began to feel something different: dread. I found myself sighing at the thought of earlier mornings and the return of responsibility. Not only dread, but also—if I was honest—a creeping sense of resentment.
It startled me to notice this. Why would something as ordinary as a school schedule stir up such strong emotions?
That question pushed me to pause and bring my emotions before the Lord. It wasn’t easy. Emotions—whether negative ones like dread and resentment or positive ones like happiness and joy—are not just passing clouds. They can be windows into our hearts, showing us what we value, what we fear, and ultimately, what we believe about God and life.
Naming Emotions: A First Step Toward Faith
The first step for me was simply naming my emotions: I feel dread. I feel resentment. Naming them didn’t make them go away, but it created space to ask the deeper questions: Why? Where is this coming from?
Sometimes Christians can be tempted to downplay emotions. We might think, I shouldn’t feel this way. If I were more faithful, I’d just rejoice always and move on. But Scripture shows us a God who cares deeply about our emotional life. The psalms are full of raw honesty before Him—complaints, cries of despair, and songs of joy. Jesus Himself wept at Lazarus’s tomb (John 11:35) and felt anguish in Gethsemane (Mark 14:33–34).
Emotions are not sins in themselves. They are signals. They reveal what we love and what we fear. They point us to our beliefs—whether those beliefs are anchored in God’s truth or drifting toward something else.
What My Dread and Resentment Revealed
As I reflected, I began to see more clearly:
I felt dread because I didn’t want my comfortable routine interrupted.
I felt resentment because I had started to cling to the summer rhythm as if it were my right, rather than a gift.
The more I sat with this, the more I realized that my emotions revealed a belief: I need comfort and control in my mornings in order to have peace.
Now, a desire for a peaceful morning in itself is not sinful. God created rhythms of work and rest, and it is good to enjoy blessings like a slower pace. But I had subtly shifted from enjoying God’s gift to demanding it. Instead of receiving a blessing with gratitude, I began to elevate it as essential to my well-being.
This is a pattern I often see in myself—and perhaps you have too. Something good becomes a “must.” It becomes the thing we believe we cannot live without. And when it is threatened, we feel anxiety, anger, resentment, or dread.
That’s what happened with me. My dread and resentment weren’t random. They were telling me that I had made my comfort an idol of the heart.
Being Gentle with Ourselves: Alternate Perspectives
Now, before I go further, I want to pause here. It would be easy to take this reflection and conclude that any negative feeling about change is sinful. But that’s not fair—or biblical.
Change is hard for many of us. Returning to earlier mornings after a season of rest naturally carries some loss. It is not wrong to feel sadness about losing something good. Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is “a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance” (Eccl. 3:4).
So, if you feel dread at a transition, that doesn’t automatically mean your heart is idolatrous. It may simply mean you are human—finite, limited, longing for stability. Our emotions may carry both natural grief and sinful tendencies. The key is discerning what is underneath them.
For me, as I pressed in, I began to see both: a natural sadness about losing a sweet season and a sinful demand that my mornings must remain easy in order for me to be at peace. Holding both together—grieving loss and confessing misplaced trust—helped me approach the Lord with honesty rather than condemnation.
Bringing Emotions Before Christ
So, how do we bring emotions like dread and resentment—or joy and happiness—before Christ?
Here’s the framework that helped me:
Name the Emotion
“Lord, I feel dread. I feel resentment.” (Or, “I feel joy. I feel delight.”)Connect it to the Heart
“I feel dread because I fear losing control.”
“I feel resentment because I am clinging to my comfort.”
(Or, “I feel joy because I am delighting in your kindness in this gift.”)Confess and Reorient
“Lord, I see that I am making comfort a demand. Forgive me for looking to this schedule for peace instead of to You.”Believe the Gospel
“Jesus, You are my peace (Eph. 2:14). You endured the cross for me, not for comfort, but for the joy set before You (Heb. 12:2). Your Spirit enables me to walk in freedom even when life feels out of control.”Respond in Faith
“Lord, help me receive each morning as a gift to steward for Your glory. When my comfort is threatened, remind me that You are my refuge and strength (Ps. 46:1). Give me joy in serving my family even when it costs me ease.”
The Gospel Meets Our Dread and Resentment
This is where the gospel becomes so precious.
Left to myself, my emotions would spiral. Dread would grow into bitterness. Resentment would grow into self-pity. My heart would justify itself: I deserve easier mornings. Why can’t things go my way?
But the gospel interrupts that cycle. It reminds me that my peace does not depend on circumstances but on Christ Himself. He is the Prince of Peace (Isa. 9:6). His presence goes with me into early mornings. His grace is sufficient for every weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).
Even more, the gospel reminds me of Christ’s own path. He left the comfort of heaven and entered the weariness of this world to redeem me (Phil. 2:5–8). He did not cling to His rights but poured Himself out in love. That truth both convicts me—when I see my selfish clinging—and comforts me—when I realize He loves me enough to forgive and transform me.
Responding in Faith
So what might it look like for me to respond in faith?
Gratitude: Thanking God for the blessing of a restful summer, without demanding it continue.
Dependence: Asking Him for strength and patience as new routines begin.
Service: Choosing to see mornings not as “my time to protect” but as “God’s time to use for my family’s good.”
Perspective: Remembering that joy is found not in ease but in Christ Himself.
Faith doesn’t erase the challenges of earlier mornings. But it reframes them. Instead of dreading them as an obstacle to my peace, I can see them as opportunities to depend on the Lord and display His love.
Applying This to Positive Emotions Too
So far, I’ve mostly focused on negative emotions. But this framework applies equally to positive ones like happiness, delight, or excitement.
For example, imagine feeling joy at a family gathering. We might say:
Name the Emotion: “I feel joy.”
Connect it to the Heart: “I feel joy because I delight in this time together.”
Confess and Reorient (if needed): “Lord, help me not to cling to this moment as if my joy depends on it lasting forever. Forgive me when I make family harmony my ultimate source of peace.”
Believe the Gospel: “Thank You that every good gift points me to the greater joy of being Your child. In Christ, I have a joy that no one can take away (John 16:22).”
Respond in Faith: “Help me enjoy this blessing with gratitude, pointing others to You as the Giver.”
In this way, even positive emotions can become occasions for worship rather than idolatry.
Closing Encouragement
As I reflect back on my dread and resentment, I see now that those emotions were invitations—opportunities to look deeper into my heart and bring it before Christ.
I don’t want to oversimplify this process. Sometimes, emotions take time to untangle. Sometimes, we don’t fully understand them until much later. And often, the Lord uses community—trusted friends, counselors, or our church family—to help us see what we cannot see alone.
But even when the process is slow, the principle remains: our emotions can become windows into our beliefs. And when those beliefs drift, the gospel has power to realign our hearts with Christ.
So whether you find yourself feeling dread at a new season, joy at a sweet gift, resentment over a loss, or happiness in a blessing—pause. Name it. Ask why. Bring it before the Lord. And let the gospel speak into it.
Because in Christ, we are not left at the mercy of our emotions. We are invited into a deeper, freer, and more joyful walk with the One who knows us fully, forgives us completely, and promises to finish the good work He began in us (Phil. 1:6).