Today, as in every broadcast, my dear friend, I try to picture the people I’m speaking to. When you want to speak to someone, you look at your listeners and try to see their faces.

Are they smiling? Are they calm, anxious, or sad? Are they young or old, children, women, or men? It makes a difference! We’re together again on Unseen Passages, on Piraeus Church Radio at 91.2 FM, the station that speaks to our souls. With me is Vasilis Chatzinikolaou, who provides the music for our program and is a very good friend of mine. Thank you, Vasilis, for being with us today and sharing your love and your musical gifts.

The station’s phone numbers are 4118602 and 4118640. I hope you’re smiling. Go on, smile a little. They say it’s contagious, and it does you good. The program is rebroadcast during the week, sometimes in the evening, on local radio stations in various dioceses in Greece and around the world. Ask your local station for the time. The Piraeus Church Radio numbers, though, are 4118602 and 4118640. There’s also an email address for short messages: atheata.perasmata.gr. Soon the program will be online as well. You’ll be able to search for it on the usual sites and listen again. Some people record these programs on CDs and give them to friends and acquaintances,

thinking they might prompt someone to reflect and offer a little help in life. Though I’ve come to understand that people are helped in many different ways.

If you haven’t heard this program, you can make a program of your own. God can speak within your mind and heart without a radio anywhere near you. He can send angels; He can send you logismoi, thoughts that come unbidden. Out of all its pain and anxiety, your soul can bring forth God’s truth. You can think things through for yourself, come to a settled understanding, make good decisions, grow, and put things right without listening to a program. You don’t have to listen, though it’s good to keep each other company and spend this time together. I greet you, I hope you’re very well, and I pray over what you write to me, just as everyone who works at this station prays

for those who listen and those who don’t, for those who love God and those who don’t. Everyone is searching for Him, and no one is simply a bad person. There is goodness in everyone.

A mother called me in a panic. ‘Please, do something for my child,’ she said. I told her, ‘I don’t know him. If I get to know him, I’ll bring him to you.’ ‘He’s in middle school,’ she said, ‘and he says he’s an atheist.’ I told her, ‘That’s all right. What matters is not what he calls himself, but who he is and what is in that dear soul of his.’ Saying he is an atheist doesn’t make him one, any more than saying I’m a Christian makes me a Christian. I may say I’m a Christian and still be full of anger, irritation, spite, and jealousy. Yet I’ve declared myself a Christian. ‘Your child says he’s an atheist at home,’ I told her, ‘partly to unsettle you and get a reaction. He enjoys seeing you panic and get worked up. But at school, he may see a classmate with nothing to eat and give him half his own sandwich. He may say, “Here, have some of mine,” or give him a little money to buy something.’

Do you see? He calls himself an atheist, yet Christ goes into his heart and makes it His home. This is the child who says he’s an atheist. There are no atheist children. Don’t stop at words or get caught up in the labels people use. Someone says, ‘I don’t believe in anything.’ All right, that’s what you’re saying now. There’s little point in trying to draw that person into a long debate. A discussion like that won’t get anywhere.

Of course, don’t treat them with contempt. Love them, respect them, and talk about things you both care about. You might say, ‘All right, let’s leave that subject for now; it doesn’t matter. Would you like to go for a walk and talk?’ ‘Of course, let’s go,’ they say. ‘Let me get my car and give you a lift.’ The very fact that someone who says he is an atheist offers to get his car and take you somewhere shows that a person with love is not an atheist.

He has that spark, that seed of goodness within him. Thank you.

It’s there, and you start digging into it, analyzing it to see exactly what it is you’re saying. You might make a... Leave that aside. Water it with your love, your discretion, and your gentle manner. Don’t start such discussions with people who can’t bear them. Give love. Give love. Let that be your answer. And if you want to get even with someone, you say, ‘I... I quarreled with someone over God, and I want to get even with him, to put him in his place.’ That is his place: your love. Hold him in your love. Anyway, that isn’t our subject today. The thought simply came up as I was speaking. When you go to the dentist, everything isn’t finished in one visit. The dentist says, ‘Come back; there’s still a little more to do.’ We too have a little more to cover, if you’d like to continue. Some time ago we talked about the anxiety that sometimes takes hold of us.

You didn’t hear that program? Don’t worry. And I needn’t worry about repeating everything I said then. Those programs are saved, and you can find the older ones online and listen if they interest or help you. So we’re continuing that conversation today. We talked about why we become anxious and the different things each of us worries about. We talked about how much it matters to have people you love close to you, to believe in Christ, and to trust the strengths Christ has placed within you: your gifts and abilities. You are not useless. You are a person of great worth. It doesn’t matter

how tall you are or what you look like. You’re perfectly fine. You get anxious; a single logismos, an intrusive thought, can overwhelm you and make you anxious for no reason.

I look at you, and someone else looks at you, and we say, ‘You’re perfectly fine.’ But you worry: ‘I’m not good-looking.’ One logismos, one intrusive thought, can drive you wild with anxiety and keep you awake all night. Just one thought. In reality, the heating or air conditioning is working, depending on the season. Your home is comfortable. You’ve eaten, you’re safe, and you’ve locked the door. Everything is fine. But a thought says, ‘No, everything is not fine,’ and reminds you of something. Suddenly a logismos wedges itself into your mind: ‘I’m no good. I’m not attractive.’ Years ago, a young person in middle school told me he hated his nose. It troubled him terribly. ‘I can’t go on like this,’ he said. ‘Why do I look this way?’

‘My child, what do you mean? What’s wrong?’ I looked at his nose to see for myself. It was a perfectly ordinary nose. Someone else worries about their ears, their appearance, their height, their body, their hair, or their eyes. We can always find thoughts that drive us to distraction and fill us with anxiety. Now, if something you’re afraid of is real, and people who love you gently say, ‘Yes, there is a problem here, though it takes nothing away from your worth or who you are. Perhaps treatment, a visit to the doctor, or an operation could help,’ that still doesn’t mean the operation gives you value or that you have no value without it. Your worth is immense.

Who you are as a person matters deeply.

Suppose you have your ears, eyes, or nose corrected. I’m just giving examples. That doesn’t make you worth more. You might feel a little better about your appearance, but it is a mistake to draw your strength, joy, and sense of balance from things about your body. Your worth comes from being a person of God, a creature of His love, baptized into the grace of the Holy Trinity. That is what Baptism means: you were immersed in God’s grace, you died and rose again, and you became a new person. You have great worth. You are a person who matters, whether you have a job or cannot find one, whether you studied or did not study, even if you cannot sign your name or write it at all. None of that makes you useless. Is someone who has learned beautiful handwriting and earned five

degrees, studied abroad, and completed graduate work and a doctorate superior to you? No. That person simply has more qualifications to help them make their way in this world. But in worth, in the beauty of the soul, and in God’s love, each of us is His own unique creation. Does God show favoritism? Think about that, and you’ll see how needlessly you worry. Your logismoi, those intrusive thoughts, are tormenting you. So please, if you can, try this. I’m working on it myself. In that earlier program I said that I haven’t overcome these things either. I struggle with them just as you do. At this moment, though, I’m doing fairly well and can speak to you. If I were overwhelmed by anxiety about something in my life right now, I don’t know whether I could do this program.

When anxiety becomes very strong, it can paralyze you. You can’t do anything or think clearly. Your mind feels congested, all tangled up. You get stuck. You can’t think straight, speak properly, or see your life clearly. I don’t know; in a few hours I may feel anxious myself. Something may happen. But right now I’m doing fairly well, and I can talk with you. I’m telling you that our logismoi, the intrusive thoughts that trouble us, torment you and make you anxious for no good reason. So welcome bright, hopeful thoughts into your heart. Tend to your thoughts and lift them up. Raise your head instead of always looking down,

in despair, disappointment, and discouragement. Lift your head a little. Lift your thoughts, and you’ll begin to see things differently. Let your thoughts be full of light, optimism, and hope. All will be well. Remember the little candle you take into the Church and light? Saint Nicodemus says it also represents bright thoughts. When we light a candle in the Church, it is as though we say, ‘Lord, as this candle melts, may my life be poured out in love and sacrifice for the world.’ Another meaning is that the candle represents our life: it has a beginning and moves toward an end, gradually burning away. And there is another meaning: ‘Lord, as I light this candle and its small flame shines on the candle stand, may bright thoughts be kindled in my mind too.’ See things with hope, because a single thought can

Because a single thought can wear you out so much. And when you keep worrying over thoughts like these, they can end up coming true. In the end, you believe the very thing you fear. It is as though Christ were saying, “If you believe it so strongly, let it be according to your faith.” You have become convinced it will happen. You bring it upon yourself inwardly. You believe you will fail. You believe you will get sick. You believe you are incapable. You worry so much that you say, “I’m taking my English exam for the third time, but there’s no way I’ll pass. There’s no way. I’m so anxious. There’s no way I’ll pass.” Look, you’ve said “There’s no way I’ll pass” fifteen times, and you want to pass? How can you, when that is what you keep telling yourself?

God loves you—of course He does. He helps and protects you, and He wants you to leave just a crack open in your soul so that a little of His light can enter. But you won’t let Him. You keep saying, “No chance, no chance, no chance. I don’t believe it.” Anxiety clouds your vision so badly that you cannot see how you are bringing disaster on yourself. In the end, it becomes what we call a self-fulfilling prophecy: you imagine something, you fear it, and then it happens because you have come to expect it. That is another trouble anxiety causes us. It keeps us from looking forward with hope toward the promised land. Instead, it keeps painting pictures of problems, failures, and fears in our minds. So you are afraid you will fail.

You get on a plane and think the whole time, “It’s going to crash.” Why keep saying that and making yourself anxious? Why not remember that beside you are angels of the heavenly hosts, their chief commanders? “We, who are unworthy, beseech you.” I kept saying those words on a flight back from America to Greece, by way of Germany or England. We were over the ocean—which ocean was it?—for hours and hours. Nothing below us but the sea, a vast darkness. There was so much turbulence that I really did become frightened. I began thinking all sorts of things. I looked at the other passengers, and I could see we were all saying the same thing silently with our eyes: “This isn’t good. Something is wrong.” Then I began to pray, because I thought, If I stay with these thoughts, I’ll be overwhelmed. I don’t mean that my thoughts would make the plane crash. I mean that staying in that state was doing me no good.

I wanted to get out of that anguish, turmoil, and fear. So I began to recite “To You, the Champion Leader,” because it ends with the words, “Deliver me from every danger.” I kept dwelling on those words: “Deliver me from every danger. Most Holy Theotokos, deliver me from every danger.” And I recited the dismissal hymn to the Chief Commanders, the Holy Angels: “Chief Commanders of the heavenly hosts, we who are unworthy beseech you: by your prayers, surround us with the shelter of the wings of your immaterial glory. Guard us as we fall before you and cry out earnestly: deliver us from danger, O Chief Commanders of the powers on high.” I said that all the way across the ocean. The plane was jolting up and down, up and down. The flight attendants gathered up the...

Food, the drinks, everything, and disappeared into the back. I thought, They’ve cleared everything away too. What’s going to happen? Where are they going? We’re all on the same plane. Would they fall somewhere else? Would they survive while we didn’t? Then I said to myself, If anxiety is going to tear me apart, I had better answer it with prayer.

And I prayed beautiful prayers up there in the sky. I was flying and praying to God, asking Him to bring peace to my heart and take away my fear and anxiety. And God did. Here I am now, speaking to you on this program. The plane did not crash. Nothing I feared happened. I was afraid, very afraid, but it did not happen. And if it had, well, I would have faced it like everyone else.

We have said this before, and it is a good answer: whatever happened to everyone else would have happened to me too. You humble yourself, surrender, and accept that you are part of the human family. You say, “Lord, I am no different from anyone else.”

Why should I be spared while everyone else goes through a trial? I am with them. That thought also eases your anxiety, because it brings you a sense of love and unity with others. Now let me promise you something. Take a pencil and paper and write this down. You will fear many things in life. You will worry about many things. But 99 percent of the fears that make us anxious never come true. They stay in our minds. Did you write that down? Write it again and underline it so you remember: 99 percent of the fears that make us anxious never happen in real life. They are fears that arise in our minds. When I was young, I remember worrying that I would not even finish middle school.

And if I did finish, how would I manage high school? I would never get into university. I worried about getting in and told myself it would never happen. But I got in. Then I thought I would never finish or get a good grade. But I finished. Then I thought I would never find work. I worried about everything, and not one of those things I feared happened. They stayed in my mind. Sadly, they left their poison there, and they still do. Anxiety poisons our soul and makes our body ill. Doctors even say it weakens the immune system. When someone lives in fear, they fall ill more easily. But when you have a braver, more hopeful outlook and your soul is strengthened—when you strengthen it with the courage Christ gives...

Well, you face things differently, and your body is healthier too. Do not be afraid. All these things troubling you are thoughts.

Young women used to tell me this, and some still do. When this program began in 2006, I met people whom I still know after all these years. Back then they would say, “There’s no way I can do that. I’m anxious. I’ll never have a family. I’ll never get my life together.” The years passed, and they had families. I would say, “Remember how afraid you were? Remember how you worried? Look: the thing you feared would never happen has happened.” And they would say, “Yes, I’m married now, but will I have a child? Will the child be healthy?” More worry, more anxiety. Then they had a child, and the child was fine. “But will I manage?” You see, the problem has become something else. You have become addicted to anxiety. It has become your drug. You cannot live without it. Even if someone takes away the problem you have, instead of rejoicing and settling down, you create a new one: “All right, that’s been resolved, but now I have something else to worry about.” You have become addicted to it.

You have come to believe in anxiety so deeply that you cannot live without it. The very cells of your soul, so to speak, seem to need something to worry over, something to unsettle them. Be at peace. A happy life is possible for you too. Believe that you deserve a good life. I wonder whether, long ago, people told you that you would fail. Perhaps your parents kept saying, “You’ll never manage. You’re useless. You’ll never amount to anything,” and you believed them. Now, whenever something goes well, you think, “It can’t last. They told me I would never manage. Something will happen and I’ll fail again.” If that is how you feel, you are still living with those memories and those cruel voices in your heart, voices that darkened the world around you.

You see everything through sadness, anxiety, and the expectation of failure. Believe in Christ. Love Christ. Picture Him within your heart. Picture His Resurrection, His strength, and the success He grants you. Right now, you keep picturing failure within yourself.

If Christ were to open your heart and look inside, He would not see beautiful dreams, plans, hopes, and visions for the future. He would see your heart writing in one little corner, “I’m sure that won’t go well.” Somewhere else it says, “I’m sure people don’t all love me,” and that makes you anxious. “I’m sure I’m not good enough...” You see everything negatively, as though there were no hope. And because you see things that way again and again, things begin to turn out that way. You play a part in bringing it about. You see, the Lord spoke many times about His Crucifixion and His suffering. But He always added that the Son of Man would be handed over, crucified, seized and tormented by cruel people, and on the third day He would rise again. He did not spread panic.

He did not spread anxiety. He spoke about something deeply frightening—death. He brought it into the conversation and told people what would happen, but He immediately set it in the light of the Resurrection: “Yet I will rise again.” The Lord lived with both His Cross and His Resurrection before they came, and that was what He shared with others. I say this especially to those younger than me and to the children. As for those who are older...

You know these things already, and I am not trying to lecture you. But try to face what you fear ahead of time and see it in another light. Suppose you are afraid you will fail an exam. All right. Live the words of the psalm: “I made ready, and I was not troubled.” I prepared myself, inwardly and spiritually, so that when the moment came, I was not shaken. Before the trial you fear arrives, prepare yourself. Sit at home and say, “Tomorrow I have an exam. I will prepare myself inwardly and spiritually, with prayer, calm, and faith. I will picture myself entering the examination room with Christ beside me.” Then stop the other logismoi, those intrusive thoughts. Put a brake on them.

Someone says to me, “Yes, yes, I know—and then the questions will be on things I haven’t studied.” And the thought goes on: “There will be questions I know nothing about, and my mind will go blank.” Those are your own thoughts speaking. I am asking you to remember the words, “We have the nous of Christ”—the spiritual mind of Christ. Christ would not think this way. Is He telling you to say that you will know nothing? How can you decide that already? I am not saying you will answer every question correctly or get top marks. God knows that. What I am saying is that you can tell yourself, “Christ will be near me. I will go into the examination room held in His love. I will have received Holy Communion. I will have sung, ‘We have seen the true light; we have received the heavenly Spirit.’ So the light of Christ is within me; the Holy Spirit is within me.” Say it inwardly: “Christ loves me.”

“I am going to take an exam, and Christ loves me.” Say it many times, because...

Think about it. You say, “Christ loves me,” once. If I say, “Christ loves you,” again, you repeat, “Christ loves me.” If I say it five times, you will tell me, “All right, enough. We’ve said it five times.” Yes, five times. But you say the other things thousands of times. Which things? “I’ll fail. I can’t do it. I’m incapable. I’m afraid. I’m anxious.” So those five times may need to become a thousand and five, to quiet the other voices that have smothered your heart and filled you with fear. Do not grow tired of saying, “Christ loves me. God fills me with strength. Christ is near me and fills me with strength.” Take your prayer rope and say the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Feel that His mercy is near you. “Lord Jesus Christ, You fill me with Your mercy. Lord Jesus Christ, Your mercy covers my life.”

“Jesus Christ, You are with me as I go into the director’s office. Lord Jesus Christ, You will be with me there.” Say it once, twice... Or say, “Lord Jesus Christ, You will be with me when I give birth. Most Holy Theotokos, You will be near me when I give birth. Most Holy Theotokos, You will be with me through the birth.” What does this do? It brings the grace of prayer into you. And when that grace enters, worldly cares fall away. Anxiety is deeply worldly; it belongs to the condition of this world, not to God. There is no anxiety in God’s heavenly realm. Can you imagine reaching Paradise and finding anxiety there? There is no anxiety in the Kingdom of God, where God dwells.

Imagine living in the Lord’s time, standing beside Him, and still being anxious. Never, never, never, never. The disciples saw people possessed by demons, people who were sick or dying, even people who had already died. But they were beside the Lord, and nothing troubled them; they were close to Him. They saw everything through His eyes and were not shaken, because they said, “The Lord is here.” What did the Most Holy Theotokos say? “Whatever He tells you...” At the wedding in Cana, they had run out of wine. And she told the servants, “He is here, and whatever He tells you, do it. He knows. Why be anxious? Do not be anxious. The Lord is here; the Lord is at your celebration.” Your life has become difficult in the midst of its celebration. And Christ is close to you, yet you are afraid and anxious? No, simply do whatever He tells you. Go to Him, and He will help you. That is certain. The certainty the Most Holy Theotokos had is a great thing. May she share it with us. “Most Holy Theotokos, help me feel your Son.”

Pray. You are not praying; you keep saying other things. Your mind fills with logismoi, intrusive thoughts. You spend hours on the phone and watch too much television, and you remain anxious. None of that makes the anxiety go away. Distractions and ways of letting off steam will not take it away. Keep returning to prayer. Pray again, persevere, and let God touch you. I tell you again: prayer brings light to those intrusive thoughts. When you are close to God, He gives you a sense of safety. Prayer fills you with that assurance. When you pray and think of God, why be anxious? You are not alone. Your Creator is close to you. There is no greater safety than that: to

have God close to you.

I also read something beautiful in the Philokalia: our breathing can often help calm the soul and help us pray. The fifth volume of the Philokalia speaks at length about noetic prayer, the prayer of the nous, or spiritual mind. It describes these deeply spiritual matters in a methodical way, explaining how a person can pray. It speaks about the importance of breathing. Think about what happens when you are very anxious. Your breath becomes short and broken. You say, “I can’t do it,” and you take one quick breath after another. But when you are calm and at peace, you say,

“Calm down. Take a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out, slowly and deeply.” A child sleeping peacefully breathes that way. When the child has a nightmare, the breathing turns short and the child suddenly wakes up: “I had a nightmare. Something frightened me.” The Saints say that we can pay attention to this when we pray. Calm breathing goes together with a calm soul, and our inner state affects how we breathe. When we are upset, our breathing becomes strained. So we can begin the other way around. If, at a particular moment, you cannot calm your soul before God, begin with your breathing. At least you can steady your breath. When you take a deep breath while saying Christ’s name, you cannot be anxious in quite the same way at that moment.

You cannot say, “I’m upset with you. I’ve gotten angry. I’m angry. I’m afraid. I’m worried. I’m anxious.” To say all that takes short, clipped phrases, abrupt feelings, tension, agitation, panic. But when you take a deep breath, you cannot say those words: “I’m angry, I’m...” They do not come out; you cannot speak that way. So take another deep breath. Breathe in—breathe in not air, but the name of Christ: “Lord Jesus Christ.” Feel that, as you breathe, you are taking in the very grace of Christ and it enters you. Then, as you breathe out, say, “Have mercy on me.” Breathe in: “Lord Jesus Christ.” Breathe out: “Have mercy on me.” A man who was paralyzed told me this, especially about moments of anxiety.

He was a man of deep faith who had multiple sclerosis. He told me how much the Jesus Prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me,” had helped him in anxious moments as he breathed in and out with Christ’s name. Feel that, with your breath, the air enters your body and your lungs, and reaches your heart: the air bearing Christ’s grace comes to touch it. As that air enters, it is no longer just air; you have sealed it with the invocation of the Lord’s name: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Breathe calmly. Do this a few times—ten, twenty, however many you can—and you will see that afterward

That great tension will leave you. You can do it on the bus. No one will notice you breathing; they won’t hear you or hear you doing anything aloud. You’ll do it quietly. You can do it at the office, too, before visiting a relative, or before making a phone call to resolve a problem. You may say, “Now, just wait and see. I’m afraid we’ll argue.” Then you grow anxious: “There’ll be an argument, you’ll see.” There won’t be an argument. No, don’t say that at all. When you say, “There’ll be an argument,” you immediately invest in one. You begin to expect an argument. Don’t expect it. Instead, what does Father Porphyrios say? What do Christ, the Church, and the Saint say? Look toward the light; don’t dwell on the darkness. Turn on the light, open the window and let in the sun. Light a candle, strike a match. Don’t keep striking at the darkness, saying, “Darkness, darkness, so much darkness.” All right, what do we do?

Strike a match. There is a flame. However small it is, the darkness gives way. That is faith. That is prayer and the power of prayer. And that is what your child needs to see when you worry about them. You say, “What can I do? My child won’t change.” But your child is waiting to see whether going to Church has kindled that flame of faith in you. Has your breathing grown calm? You may think you have drawn close to Christ, yet come home full of turmoil. The Lord cannot dwell in that turmoil; its spirit does not come from Him. So if you are anxious about your child, leave the child for a moment and attend to your own breathing, your logismoi—your intrusive thoughts—and your prayer. Then you will bring the peace Christ gives into your home, as though you were watering it. Your anxiety will ease.

People may even ask you, “Have you become indifferent? Don’t you worry about life anymore? You used to rush around.” And you will answer, “No, I’m not anxious. God will provide.” Others will say, “Look what the Church has done for her. Look what God has done for him. How did this happen? We don’t argue now. There is no anger or panic, no trembling.” That is the greatest witness we can give. When anxiety no longer rules us, it shows that the Lord has truly made His home in our hearts and touched us.

That does not mean the reverse is always true. Someone who feels anxious at times still loves God. But it can mean that they often lose touch with Him. When you are close to God, He shares His peace and calm with you, a life free of anxiety. I pray that you experience this.

Read the fifth volume of the Philokalia, published by “In the Garden of the Most Holy Theotokos.” Some passages may be difficult if you are unfamiliar with them. These are spiritually demanding texts, but they were written for us, for the faithful of the Church. Some people say, “Don’t touch those books. They are too spiritual for us.” Yet you say that when you are twenty, and before you know it you are sixty, seventy, or eighty. When will we read them—after we die? For whom were they written? Meanwhile, other teachings come along, Eastern and New Age philosophies, and draw people in. People find them appealing because they offer practical ways to engage the body: attention to breathing, for example. We too have our prayer rope.

Then someone asks, “Why did that person go there?” Do you know why? Because we have these teachings but do not put them into practice. We have not managed to draw people toward these beautiful texts. They speak to the soul and give us something practical to do, with the body taking part as well. They offer a powerful answer to the troubles of our time.

Perhaps it takes you an hour to get to work. As you drive, you can breathe calmly and say the name of Christ. By “deeply,” I mean breathe gently and steadily. Pay attention to your breathing while keeping your eyes and attention on the road. You can drive attentively and quietly say, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Let the prayer bring you stillness and calm.

You will notice how many thoughts try to disturb your peace. “What a difficult day this will be! Where will I find the money? What about that debt? I have to see the doctor by this afternoon. The children need help with their homework. Will I have time to cook? What will happen with that piece of land? What am I going to do about my brother?” But this time of prayer strengthens you for the whole day. It lets the day draw strength from the grace of God. For those moments, let the other worries wait so your anxiety can ease and your soul can grow calm. You will see that things get resolved. A kind woman once told me on the phone, “Everything in this world can be worked out. Everything will pass.” And when you understand that everything will pass and be resolved,

that our problems will come to an end and that we too will one day leave this world, you have learned something wise. We are anxious because we treat everything we do as terribly important. When we see these matters in proportion, we realize how often we upset ourselves over things that pass away. It is not worth making yourself ill, or growing old before your time, over trivial things. Two people were at odds. One was worrying about their next meeting: “I’ll set him straight. When I see him again, I’ll tell him exactly what I think.” Anger, tension, worry—it was doing him harm.

They had arranged to meet the following week, and he was still anxious about the argument he expected. Three days later, a friend called him. “You know what? He died.” “Who?” “The man you were going to meet.” “He died? Then who am I going to argue with? What about everything I was going to say?” There was nothing to say. The man had departed. Hold on to your anxiety and anger if you wish; you can no longer put them to him and hear an answer. Remember all those words that used to provoke him and leave you distressed? Say them now. What will they accomplish? This brings to mind what the Apostle Paul says somewhere: live as though dead to the world.

See how beautifully what the Gospel says fits into life—not as dry, intellectual theory. Be like someone dead to the world; why get caught up in things? Does a dead person feel anxiety? Become like that. I do not mean that you should stop enjoying life and die as though you were literally dead. Say you went out for a drive and something—something happened: you had a collision, I mean. All right—so what? What does it matter, my friends? We went out together out of love. We felt good. We had a good time. Someone scratched our car a little. We had a collision. So what happened? What happened? Well, what happened to the car? Go tell the man who died that someone crashed his car, that someone scratched his car. How could I tell him? Even if you did, would he say anything to you?

Be like that. The cars collided, but did your heart? That is the point: do not let your heart be scratched. The bodywork and such things can be repaired. A man in my apartment building died, and for so many months afterward letters, bills, and notices from the tax office kept arriving in his name. I would look at them and say, “The poor man can no longer receive any of these.” If we understand life this way, we will not be upset about anything. They are all small things. Everything can be resolved, everything will be resolved, and everything will pass away. Remember that, and make your thoughts more joyful. Today is a very beautiful day because it is God’s day, a day of His love. Love God. Think about what we said and believe it. The Lord always asked for faith: “Do you believe in Me? Do you believe in Me, who am true peace

Do you believe in Me, who am true health? If you believe in Me, you will see the wonders of My love. If you do not believe in Me, but believe more in illness, failure, complaining, death, malice, mistakes, and sins, and give them your heart, these things will happen to you. Change your faith. We say we should not change our faith, but we should change our faith, because in the end we do not believe in Christ; we believe in everything else. If we believed in Christ and saw His power, we would have no anxiety. Anxiety takes hold because we have lost sight of His face. And we want to become anxious about other things. Once I went to give a talk, and people asked me to speak about the end of the world, earthquakes, floods, and things like that. I said, “It seems you want me to make you anxious. You want to become anxious. But I do not want to do you that favor. I do not want to make you anxious with these stories.” So, should we not know?

Even if we know, what will we do with that knowledge? Won’t you carry on with your spiritual struggle, your prayer, and your love for God? Hold on to that. Whenever it happens, whatever happens, you will be ready. Christ did not often speak about things that make us anxious. Most of the time He spoke about God’s love. He spoke about light: “I have come as light into the world.” He spoke of things that are pure, bright, radiant, and full of hope. That is why people love Christ, yet do not love us, the people who follow Him: we do not give them that same sense of hope. The way we share the spiritual life makes people anxious. We are not offering them something sweet and nourishing. You understand that because you have lived it, and you say it yourself. That’s how it is.

Look at the time. I don’t want to get anxious, but I have to stop, Vasilis. Many thanks to Vasilis Hatzinikolaou, and many thanks to Phoebe, who answers your calls at 4118602 and 4118640. I got anxious! The programme’s email address is atheata.perasmata@yahoo.gr. The programme is also rebroadcast, and before long it will be online as well. I hope you are doing well.

Pray for everyone, and for me too. I pray for everyone, and for myself as well. Let us love one another and stay united, so that our anxiety may leave us, as each of us holds the other's hand and heart and we all gaze upon the face and love of our Christ, who will surely give us His many gifts.

One of His great gifts is freedom from anxiety, and deep, untroubled peace and calm in our souls. We will speak again another time. If we have left anything unfinished, we will continue then. In any case, do not be anxious. Everything will be all right. Goodbye, my dear friend.