Anxiety. Worry. Stress.
I know these words. I pack them everywhere I go. Sometimes I take them out, shine them up for all to see.
Anxiety and I are close—tight, bonded. Friends even? She wakes up with me and speaks to me, as I get ready for work. Never wasting a moment.
Every single second she has something to say.
The essays need to be graded during first period so you can get them passed back fourth or your students won’t have what they need for the essay their turning in tomorrow.
You haven’t posted a blog in almost two weeks. You’re letting everyone down.
Ella needs an appointment to have her eyes checked. I can’t believe you haven’t done that yet. Call today.
Have you called your Grandmother lately? The prescriptions need to be picked up from Target. Are you really eating frozen pizza for dinner again? Why aren’t you paying off more debt? You need to read those books on the nightstand to help you get a grip.
The conversation continues all day.
The darkness it brings lays a blanket heavy on my soul.
And for me? Depression and Anxiety like to gang up. Hang out. Get comfy and stay awhile. I know what it’s like to be buried deep without air. To cover my head with the pillows desperate, hoping the darkness will fade.
The cycle tortures.
Depression sucks my energy. I get nothing done. Then Anxiety comes knocking. Because I’m an adult with responsibilities. Yet all I do is pull the covers higher.
Back and forth—they play tug-of-war with my life.
I’m scraped across the mud.
The game ebbs and flows. Times I call on Jesus, pull myself out, and walk away. Then there are times I wave my white flag, grateful for Jesus and modern medicine.
But whatever time it is—Jesus is always a part of the anxiety killing.
I drove by a fisherman on my way to work this morning and wished for my camera. The rising sun glistened on the water, light hitting the man in a glorious spectacle. I imagined time standing still as he cast his line in to the water.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7 (NIV)
There is a flinging in the cast. A pulling your arm back and slinging the line into the deep blue. A letting go.
But the thing about casting? I tend to reel my anxiety back in with nothing on the line but the heaviness of worry and stress. I try to catch peace by reeling in emptiness.
There are some in this life that can fling their anxiety to the heavens never to reel them back. I envy those souls.
My life is a practice in casting.
But maybe? Maybe for some of us the beauty waits in the practice. Anxiety creeps in, but my Father beams light in its glorious spectacle when I cast it back out. He loves to see me practice the cast—flinging obedience His way.
Again. And again. And again.
There is beauty and delight in those moments.
A Heavenly Daddy cheering His daughter on in the practice, knowing one day she will fling and never reel emptiness back in. One day she’ll be an expert in the casting.
Until then? I’ll keep practicing, learning to dance in the light shimmering all around—living carefree before my Jesus because He is careful with me. Holding my fragility in His gentle hands.
Keep casting my sisters. There is bouncing, dancing Light in the practice.
Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you. 1 Peter 5:7 (MSG)
Learning to Life Free and linking up with my friend Suzie Eller today. Do you struggle with anxiety as I do? Join other bloggers just like me today as we look for ways to #livefree from anxiety and fear. Click over now and breathe deep.