I’ve been a major worrier for as long as I can remember. At a young age, I learned that my parents worked full-time in Christian ministry, which meant that my family depended solely on donations from other people to survive. I assumed that our income was unsteady and could crash at any moment.
I imagined the worst in every situation and had nightmares of tornadoes, fires, floods, car accidents, and shark attacks (I lived in Florida until I was five, but was too afraid to even dip a toe into the ocean). I justified my negative thinking by saying that at least I was prepared for anything that could happen.
My childhood fears developed into strong, relentless negative thinking habits as I entered junior high and high school. I used fear as a motivator to act. The fear of failing drove me towards discipline in school and in sports. The fear of being lonely lead me to pursue friendships. And the fear of not being “good enough” to get into heaven motivated me to open up my Bible each day and head to church on Sundays (MAJOR LIE, we don't have to be "goodenough"). Soon my negative thought life became more than just what I did, it become who I was.
On the outside, I looked like your average Christian teenager: respectful and considerate towards others, but on the inside, I was an anxious wreck. A prime example of my destructive thought pattern was the way I handled my nerves towards competitions in sports. I didn’t experience the normal jitters and excitement that should accompany an athlete.
Instead, I took my nerves to the next level. I allowed the nervous tension I felt towards competing to dwell in my mind until I felt my stomach become uneasy and my heart pound. I couldn't eat or talk until my race was over. I competed out of fear, and while it led to temporary good things, I failed to enjoy and celebrate anything my teammates and I accomplished together.
One day, God momentarily took away my abilities as an athlete. I blew out my knee right before my senior season of track. But what I thought would’ve been the worst thing to happen to me as an athlete, turned out to be exactly what I needed at that time.
God took my attention off myself and directed me to the people around me. I found a new joy and fulfillment, as I celebrated in other people’s successes. I was actually happier in the bleachers than I had ever been after I won a race.
I wish I could say this injury totally altered my negative attitude, but it didn’t. I still didn’t recognize my problem. While my fears that I faced as a child and teenager had dwindled down, I unfortunately found new fears.
In college, I became a people-pleaser. I wanted my parents to think I made smart decisions with my money and time. I wanted my track coaches to think of me as a hard worker. I wanted my friends to trust me and count on me. I wanted my boyfriend to think I was pretty and skinny enough. I wanted people to look up to me and appreciate me.
All of these are natural and ok desires, but I held these close to my heart allowing them to control me and I tossed God’s view of me to the side. In fact, I didn’t even care about what God thought of me, or if he was pleased or displeased. As long as the people around me thought I was godly, it didn’t matter what God’s opinion of me was.
Living as a people-pleaser led to unhappiness and restlessness. I could never reach a place where I pleased everyone. I could stand up for one friend, but another friend would feel mistreated. I could stay up late studying to please my professors, but my energy wouldn't be there at track practice the next day. I could spend time with my boyfriend and make him happy, but a girl friend would complain I never made time for her. I was always letting someone down.
Slowly, my favorite word became “anxious.” Not favorite as in I liked it, but favorite as in it was my most used word, by far. I blamed literally everything on anxiety. At twenty-one-years-old, one evening I called my dad around midnight, because I felt “anxious” and he drove to my house at college to pick me up and take me home... like what in the world? Other people’s presence always calmed my anxiety and allowed me to get my thoughts under control, but I dreaded being alone.
I received the worst news of my life this past semester of college: my mom was diagnosed with cancer. My absolute worst fear had come true and of course my thoughts jumped to the worst conclusion: that we would lose her. I couldn’t imagine life without her.
"How could I picture my mom’s side of the bed untouched and my dad sleeping alone? Or my brothers cooking and cleaning for themselves? My sister without somebody to take her picture before homecoming and prom? Or me, planning a wedding without my mom? Or my future children never knowing their own grandma?"
After the news of my mom settled in and the sobs died down, instead of seeking a friend's presence and comfort (which I do 90% of the time I'm afraid, and the other 10% of the time, I go to the gym), I felt the Holy Spirit prompt me to take my fear to my Heavenly Father. And surprisingly I did. For the first time in months, I had a conversation with God. Not like a prayer before a meal, or a quick request, or a worship session with a group of other Christians, but I communicated to God one-on-one.
When I took my fear to God, I immediately felt my burden ease and was filled with His peace. This is how I survived those first few weeks after my mom’s diagnosis, how I was able to finish my track season and my junior year of college. Not a minute went by when I didn’t think about my mom, but before I allowed my fear to turn into anxiety and panic, I turned it over to God.
"I prayed that He would give my mom strength and a positive spirit. I prayed that He would give me self-control with my emotions when I was around my mom. I didn’t want her to see me cry. I prayed that God would use this situation to draw my family closer together and that He would use this trial to somehow, some way promote His love to the people who know my mom!"
Three months later, I can tell you that God has answered each of these. My mom is totally killing her treatments and every time she heads into the treatment room she brings a spark of hope with her! She never complains, but instead understands that trials are a part of life. She’s more beautiful than ever, even without her hair.
And God gave me the strength to hold in my tears when those first strands of her hair started to fall out... which was so hard, and being as emotional as I am, I can say it's only by God's miraculous power that I didn't cry! My mom still serves my family whenever she can find the energy and she has this goofy sense of humor that she didn't have before. I have honestly never been more proud of my mom.
I truly wish she, or anybody, wouldn't have to fight cancer - it's awful - but God used this situation to teach me how to take my fears straight to Him and let Him handle the big stuff. This has eased my anxiety tremendously.
On a plane ride to L.A. for a mission’s trip this summer, God directed me to Matthew 6:25-34. Here, Jesus wanted to command the people He met on earth (and eventually you and me, centuries later) to avoid worrying. Jesus says, “Don’t worry about your life, what you eat, what you drink, about your body, or what you wear.”
After all, God takes care of the birds of the air, how much more special are we? We are the only creation on earth to be made in His image. We’re more valuable than any sunset, mountain, or waterfall. Of course He will take care of us!
I have a long journey ahead of me before I can completely undo the years worth of negative thinking I developed, BUT I have stopped using “I’m just an anxious person” as an excuse to worry. The fact of the matter is, I am fully capable of controlling my thoughts!
The mind is like the muscles in our body, the more we train them to do what we want, the more they will grow into something good. I’ve stopped looking at anxiety as something that is uncontrollable. While I recognize that there are anxiety and depressive disorders which require medical attention, I refuse to use that as excuse to let my thoughts get destructive and negative!
I know that for me, I am in control of my mind, and I get to choose what I want to think about. However, I'm definitely NOT saying that I find it wrong to get an anxious thought here and there, especially when tough times come. Even Jesus faced anguish and sorrow before He went to be crucified on the cross for our sins.
How did He respond though? He withdrew from everyone in the middle of the night and earnestly prayed to His Heavenly Father. God heard Jesus and sent angels to strengthen Him. He then went to wake up His disciples, and told them to get up and pray, so that they will not fall into temptation.
Would you consider what Jesus did with me? And as we face fear, anxiety, sorrow, anguish, guilt, anger, can we take those feelings straight to our Father in heaven?
I just want to close with one short verse I find encouraging, it's found in I John 5:14. If you take away one thing from reading this article, choose this nugget of truth:
"This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us."
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P.S. Huge credit to my boyfriend, Cole, who met me at my most anxious time, but stood beside me anyway and pointed me towards God's truth whenever I said anything negative about my life. He was the first person I've completely opened up to and I'm so thankful God sent him along :)))
