“Jack of all trades, master of none.” Most of us can relate. There are plenty of things we do well, maybe even great, but we would never boast about them. Yet there is one thing I do exceptionally well. I ruminate. I catastrophize. I think, then think again, then overthink, and then build a worst-case scenario out of that overthinking. In other words, I worry.
A recent example comes from Christmas. While doing something as simple as sharing a glimpse of my holiday preparations on social media, I realized afterward that I had unintentionally included something I should not have. I took the post down immediately, and there was no real risk to anyone, but my mind still ran straight to fear. The thought of making a mistake involving people I care about made my anxiety feel enormous. The danger was never real. The anxiety was. My heart dropped. I was terrified. It consumed my thoughts for weeks. Honestly, I still think about it now.
Even though the situation was handled quickly and no damage was done, my mind immediately jumped to the worst possible outcome. What if I disappointed people I admire? The fear made me physically sick. And that, my friends, is where my sin struggle shows up in the most persistent and exhausting ways.
I want to hand it over to God. I want to acknowledge the mistake, take responsibility, and move forward. But I keep circling back. I ruminate. I catastrophize. I worry. I replay it endlessly.
For what purpose? What value is there in revisiting an honest mistake except to keep myself stuck in a loop of anxiousness? What good comes from letting fear keep my sin patterns alive instead of breaking them?
So that is where the real work begins.
At the start of this year, I went to my doctor and had an honest conversation about anxiety. Counseling matters. Prayer matters. Rest matters. Moving my body, limiting my inputs, and practicing the tools I know matter too. But sometimes, even when you are doing all the right and good things, you need a little extra support. For me, that meant supplements to help take the edge off the anxiety that had been running my life.
I do not love that this is part of my story. But I refuse to let worry, fear, and anxiety steal my joy in this season of life. I am genuinely sorry for the mistakes I make. They matter to me because people matter to me. Yet I am also learning to extend the same grace to myself that I so easily give to others. God never intended for conviction to turn into self-condemnation. He gently calls me to repent, to make things right, and then to walk forward in freedom, not fear.
Scripture tells us to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). That means I am not meant to be a passive passenger to my anxious thoughts. I am invited to stop them, hold them up to truth, and choose a different path.
One surrendered thought at a time, I’m learning to stop carrying the heavy bag of my mistakes. I am learning to retrain my brain and to build new pathways. I am remembering that God designed neuroplasticity long before science ever named it.
I am practicing God-centered self-talk. I am reframing my cognitive patterns. I am reminding myself that worry does not have to be my master.
Fear does not get to hold me captive.
One surrendered thought at a time, I am learning to let grace, His grace, reshape the pathways that anxiety has carved.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:6–7
Grace in the Disarray 