Anxiety and Faith Lessons from the Psalms

From head to hands, we often acknowledge that anxiety is a part of the human experience. Theological doctrines remind us that God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble (Psalm 46:1). This is a beautiful truth, yet when anxiety grips our hearts, that doctrinal knowledge often feels distant and abstract. We know from Scripture that faith is a vital aspect of our relationship with God, as Hebrews 11:1 tells us, "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." Yet, as we navigate the complexities of life, particularly in moments of fear and uncertainty, we may find ourselves wrestling with how to embody that faith. The Psalms, rich with expressions of raw emotion and authentic cries for help, offer us a pathway to integrate our faith amidst anxiety. They remind us that it's okay to bring our worries and fears before God, as if we were laying ourselves bare before Him. They challenge us not to dismiss our feelings, but to allow our anguish to draw us closer to the heart of God.

We confess a truth that through faith, we can find rest, but our bodies complicate things. Anxiety can manifest physically: a racing heart, shallow breathing, constant tension in our shoulders. As an ER nurse, I see the physical toll that anxiety takes on people every day. I’ve held the hands of patients as their bodies shook under the weight of panic, looking into their eyes, which betray their fears even when words fail. It’s in these moments that I’ve felt the Holy Spirit whispering to me, reminding me that even in their brokenness, God’s presence can bring comfort. The Psalms affirm that God meets us in our breaking; Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." When we experience anxiety, we can turn to these sacred spaces of suffering, allowing them to remind us that our physical limitations do not negate the reality of God’s love and care.

In real life, relationships can serve as both a source of support and a trigger for anxiety. The Psalms illustrate the dynamic of community, calling us to both bear one another’s burdens and to seek solace in times of distress. For instance, Psalm 55:22 encourages us to "cast our cares on the Lord and he will sustain you." It's a beautiful picture of releasing our anxieties into the hands of someone who can carry them. Yet, when we navigate the complexities of family dynamics or church communities, we can often feel isolated in our struggles. I’ve witnessed how isolation feeds anxiety, particularly in a church culture where vulnerability can be viewed as a weakness. In these moments, I have often found myself returning to the Psalms, holding space for my pain and the pain of others, reminding us that we are not alone in our fight against fear.

Even in the mundane, anxiety has a way of creeping into our daily routines. The kitchen sink, for example, might seem like an unassuming place, yet it can be a battleground for anxious thoughts. As I wash the dishes, I often find myself thinking about the unaddressed bills piling up on the counter or the weight of unspoken expectations looming over me. In those moments, Psalm 94:19 resonates deeply: "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy." God meets us in the midst of our ordinary tasks, inviting us to breathe deeply and to offer up our worries with every dish we wash. I’ve found that even in these small acts, there lies the power of releasing anxiety into God’s hands as I soak my hands in warm, soapy water, reminding myself that He is present even in the most mundane of moments.

Integrated living means allowing our theology and practice to bind together in a beautiful dance. The Psalms teach us that our faith is not meant to be a set of doctrines we cling to in times of need; rather, it is a living, breathing relationship with our Creator who knows our hearts intimately. The whole-life gospel invites us to embody this truth in our interactions, our work, and even our self-care practices. I often remind myself that taking care of my mental health, whether through therapy, prayer, or simply allowing myself to rest, is an act of faith in itself. It acknowledges that while I may wrestle with anxiety, I can also hold onto hope and trust that God is working in my midst. Psalm 23 becomes a balm for my soul in this integrated life, reminding me that "He leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.”

As we navigate the complexities of anxiety and faith, I invite you to practice a physical expression of trust. Engage your body in a way that acknowledges both your anxiety and God’s presence. Perhaps you could take a moment to sit with your hands open in your lap, breathing deeply and offering your worries to the Lord. This embodied invitation challenges us to recognize that our faith can manifest in our physicality, reminding us t