• When Anxiety Gets It Wrong

    So that doctor’s appointment I wrote about in the last post finally happened.

    And, like so many things anxiety promises, it didn’t happen the way I imagined at all.

    For a few days leading up to the appointment, I was fixated on my blood pressure. I have what they call white coat syndrome. Put me in a doctor’s office and my body decides something must be wrong. Heart rate up. Blood pressure up. Numbers that look scary even when nothing actually is.

    I knew all this logically. It didn’t help much.

    I tried staying in the moment. I tried reminding myself that this was a routine visit. But on the day of the appointment, the anxiety was still there. That’s how it goes sometimes. Anxiety doesn’t need permission to show up.

    At first, I told myself the reasonable thing:
    So what if my blood pressure is high? Just tell them you’re anxious.

    Then the thoughts started stacking.

    What if it’s really high?
    What if they send me to the ER?
    What if I have to stay overnight?

    I went for a walk before the appointment. That helped some. The tight chest eased. The lightheaded feeling calmed down.

    And then I started worrying about those symptoms.

    If I feel like this now, what’s my blood pressure going to be when they check it?

    If you’re an anxious person, you know how this works. Anxiety doesn’t just stay in your head. It moves into your body. And once your body is involved, the fear feels real. Justified. Rational, even.

    What Actually Happened

    When I got to the appointment, the nurse called me back. I sat down and waited for the blood pressure cuff.

    It never came.

    She checked my oxygen levels, asked a few questions, and said the doctor would be in shortly.

    That was it.

    When she walked out, it finally hit me: maybe the nurse doesn’t check my blood pressure at these follow-up visits. And she never did. This wasn’t that kind of appointment.

    Ten minutes later, I was back in the parking lot.

    No high reading.
    No emergency room.
    No overnight stay.

    The tightness in my chest disappeared almost immediately. All that worry, all that mental energy, and nothing even remotely close to what I imagined actually happened.

    Anxiety Is Convincing, Not Accurate

    Anxiety is a warning system. It’s meant to prepare us for danger. And sometimes it’s helpful.

    But it’s also really bad at predicting the future.

    The story my mind told felt urgent and believable. It just wasn’t true.

    Jesus talked about this tendency directly – about how we’re wired to worry about tomorrow, to imagine outcomes we don’t actually have access to yet. We borrow trouble from the future and then wear ourselves out carrying it.

    Matthew 6 says:

    “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

    “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

    That’s exactly what I did: worrying about things I can’t control and doing myself absolutely no good.

    The Only Thought That Helped

    The closest I came to peace before the appointment wasn’t a deep spiritual moment. It was much simpler than that.

    At one point I just thought: Who cares?
    So what if my blood pressure is high?

    What I really meant was: I can’t control the outcome, and I’m done trying to.

    I also tried to keep my mind full. Scripture. A short prayer. Even a poem I learned years ago. Not because it fixed everything, but because it gave my mind something else to sit with.

    Our minds aren’t great at focusing on two things at once. When they’re full, anxiety has less space to spread.

    That’s something I talk about in 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind – how small, intentional practices don’t eliminate anxiety, but they do keep it from running unchecked.

    A Reminder I Need Often

    This experience reminded me of something I need to hear over and over:

    My anxiety about future outcomes is not a reliable predictor of reality.

    Most of the things we fear never happen. And when something does happen, it usually looks very different than what we imagined.

    Any small step that reduces the hours we spend worrying about tomorrow is a step toward a calmer life.

    I hope I remember that next time.

    And I hope you do too.


    Next Steps

    If your mind tends to live in imagined futures, 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind was written for you. It’s not about fixing anxiety or pretending it isn’t there. It’s about learning how to respond differently – slowly, honestly, and with faith woven into everyday life.

    Anxiety may show up.
    But it doesn’t have to be in charge.

    You can learn more about 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind here.

  • I have to go to the doctor this week for a routine check-in, and I’m not happy about it.

    One of my deepest anxiety triggers is anything related to health or medical issues. Just writing that sentence tightens something in my chest. For me, anxiety doesn’t show up as vague worry—it shows up as very specific fear. Tests. Symptoms. Waiting rooms. Medical language. The unknown.

    This fear didn’t come out of nowhere.

    When I was a child, my mother experienced a very serious illness that lasted eight years and nearly took her life multiple times. From first grade through eighth grade, I spent far more time inside hospitals than any kid should. I saw machines, procedures, and worst-case conversations long before I had the emotional tools to process them.

    Those experiences shape us, whether we realize it or not.

    For me, they became the foundation of health anxiety. I grew into a mild hypochondriac—one who overthinks sensations, “catastrophizes” minor symptoms, and mentally rehearses devastating diagnoses that have no real evidence behind them. If I hear about a condition, my mind finds a way to connect it to me. At this point, I’m fairly certain I’ve diagnosed myself with nearly every disease known to humanity.

    If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone.

    Health Anxiety Is More Common Than We Think

    Health anxiety, sometimes called illness anxiety, is far more common than most people realize. Studies estimate that up to 5–7% of adults experience clinically significant health anxiety, and many more experience it in milder but persistent forms.¹

    What makes it especially difficult is that it often feels rational. After all, health matters. Bodies change. People do get sick.

    But anxiety doesn’t respond to logic the way we expect it to.

    Research shows that people with health anxiety are far more likely to misinterpret normal bodily sensations, like muscle tension, fatigue, or minor pain, as signs of serious illness.² The more we scan our bodies, the more sensations we notice. The more sensations we notice, the more anxious we become. It’s a self-reinforcing loop.

    And then there’s the internet.

    Multiple studies have shown that Googling symptoms increases anxiety, especially in people already prone to worry.³ What begins as reassurance-seeking almost always ends in escalation. Rare conditions rise to the top. Worst-case scenarios dominate. Context disappears.

    That’s why boundaries matter.

    My Personal Rules for Managing Medical Anxiety

    Over time, I realized that my anxiety wasn’t just triggered by medical situation – it was fueled by how I responded to them. So I created a very intentional policy for myself, especially around health-related fears:

    • If a medical commercial comes on TV, I turn it off.
    • If I see a medical headline online, I keep scrolling.
    • I never Google symptoms.
    • If I have a legitimate concern, I familiarize myself with actual statistics, not anecdotes. Many of the conditions we fear are either rare or far less likely than anxiety suggests.
    • I get information from medical professionals I trust, not algorithms.
    • I refuse to dwell on fears that are rooted in imagination rather than evidence.

    These rules aren’t about avoidance – they’re about containment. Anxiety thrives on unlimited access to information without context. Boundaries give the nervous system room to calm down.

    Everyone Has a Personal Anxiety “Hot Button”

    One of the most important realizations I’ve had is this:
    Everyone with anxiety has a specific category that sends it into orbit.

    For some people it’s health.
    For others it’s finances, relationships, safety, or the fear of losing control.

    Those areas require special care – not judgment, not brute force. You don’t overcome them by trying harder. You manage them by being intentional.

    That means having a plan before anxiety spikes.

    And when anxiety can’t be avoided, like my upcoming doctor visit, we practice something even harder: acceptance. We stay anchored in the present moment. We remind ourselves that discomfort is not danger. And we trust that the moment will pass, just like countless anxious moments have passed before.

    Next Steps

    If you see yourself in this – if anxiety has latched onto a specific fear and refuses to let go – I created 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind for you.

    This isn’t a program about fixing yourself or eliminating anxiety forever. It’s a daily rhythm designed to help you relate differently to anxious thoughts – especially the ones that feel deeply personal and deeply convincing.

    Each meditation is short, grounded, and rooted in Scripture, reflection, and lived experience. It’s meant to meet you where you are and help you take one steady step at a time – without forcing calm or pretending fear doesn’t exist.

    If your mind tends to spiral, fixate, or catastrophize, especially around the things that matter most, this guide was written with you in mind.

  • After spending years in the trenches building a business that started off slow and then took off like a rocket, I looked up one day surrounded by new hires, complex processes, new demands for additional growth, and, most importantly, a group of people looking to me to lead them. I found myself in meetings with high-profile leaders who ran other divisions of the company, and I was expected to know what I was talking about when it came to my business.

    Those new demands, regardless of my past success, suddenly had me second-guessing myself and my ability to lead the business into the future.

    This is a psychological phenomenon called imposter syndrome. It’s the persistent sense that you don’t belong where you are, that sooner or later the people around you will discover you’re not really as capable as it seems. Maybe they’ll realize they hired the wrong person. Maybe you were never supposed to be in this role at all.

    And impostor syndrome doesn’t just apply to business. I meet many parents who suddenly find themselves in the thick of raising children with increasingly complex challenges. They start asking the same quiet questions: Am I really cut out for this? Can I be a good parent when I’ve never done this before?


    Moses: a man who should have been confident

    There’s a central figure in the Old Testament named Moses who may be one of the clearest examples of impostor syndrome in all of Scripture.

    On paper, Moses had every reason to be confident.

    As a Hebrew baby born under a death sentence, he was placed in a basket and set afloat on the Nile—only to be discovered and adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter, a member of Egypt’s ruling family. Moses was raised in the palace, surrounded by power, wealth, education, and influence. He would have been trained in leadership, governance, communication, and strategy. He knew how the most powerful empire in the world actually worked, from the inside.

    If anyone had the resume to confront Pharaoh and lead a nation, it was Moses.


    The hidden fractures in Moses’ story

    But Moses also carried deep wounds and failures.

    As a young man, he witnessed the oppression of his own people and responded not with strategy or leadership, but with violence – killing an Egyptian and burying the body in the sand. When the act became known, Moses fled Egypt in fear. He spent the next forty years in obscurity as a shepherd in Midian, far removed from the palace life that once defined him.

    By the time God spoke to him from the burning bush in the Book of Exodus, Moses no longer saw himself as a leader. He saw himself as disqualified: too old, too removed, too broken by past mistakes.


    What Moses said about himself

    When God asked Moses to lead the Hebrew people out of bondage in Egypt, Moses responded exactly the way someone struggling with impostor syndrome would respond.

    He said:

    • “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?”
    • “What if they don’t believe me or listen to me?”
    • “I am not eloquent… I am slow of speech and tongue.”
    • “Please send someone else.”

    These weren’t abstract theological objections. They were deeply personal doubts. Moses didn’t argue about whether God could do it – he argued about whether he could.

    Despite his education, background, and calling, Moses fixated on his shortcomings:

    • His past failure
    • His perceived lack of ability
    • His fear of being exposed
    • His belief that someone else would be better

    That is impostor syndrome in its rawest form.


    What God does (and does not) remove

    Moses is a powerful reminder that impostor syndrome is both timeless and present even in the most accomplished people. Our anxious minds will always find a way to use our shortcomings to produce feelings of doubt, inadequacy, and fear.

    What I’ve learned, and what Moses’ story confirms, is that God does not always remove our doubts. Instead, He comes alongside us and reminds us that if He calls us to do something, He will be faithful to provide the strength, ability, wisdom, and support required to accomplish it.

    God didn’t tell Moses, “You’re actually amazing.”
    He told him, “I will be with you.”

    That distinction matters.


    Living this truth moment by moment

    Scripture tells us that “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.” If God initiates the work by calling you into something – whether leadership, parenting, creation, or service – you can trust that He will be present in each moment needed to carry it forward.

    My experience has been that this faithfulness shows up moment by moment, not all at once. When I stay focused on the task directly in front of me, anxiety loosens its grip. When I get lost in over-planning the future or replaying past mistakes, momentum slows, anxiety increases, and impostor syndrome finds fertile ground.

    My anxiety decreases significantly when I remember that I don’t have to carry everything myself. God surrounds me with the people I need, gives me just enough strength for today, and carries the weight I was never meant to hold alone.

    Moses never became confident in himself, but he learned to move forward anyway, trusting the presence of God more than the accusations of his own mind.


    Next Steps

    If impostor syndrome resonates with you – if you often feel the weight of responsibility, self-doubt, or the sense that you’re carrying more than you were meant to- 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind was written for moments like this.

    This isn’t a guide about fixing yourself or forcing confidence. It’s a simple, daily rhythm designed to help you slow your thoughts, ground yourself in truth, and remember that you don’t walk through anxiety alone. Each meditation offers space to breathe, reflect, and gently return to the present moment—where God’s presence is already enough.

    If Moses teaches us anything, it’s that calling and confidence are not the same thing. God often meets us not after our fears are resolved, but right in the middle of them.

    If you’re looking for a companion you can return to each day, especially when doubt feels loud, 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind is available now. You can move through it at your own pace, one day at a time, trusting that the work God began in you is still unfolding.

  • From the time I was five years old, I was consuming news. My parents still talk about me watching the morning news with Bob Schieffer before they even got out of bed. I’ve always been drawn to current events, information, and, more than anything, the search for truth.

    Fast forward to today, and we live in a world where we have more information at our fingertips than we could consume in two lifetimes. But much of what we encounter now isn’t designed to inform us or help us understand the world more clearly. It’s designed to capture attention, generate clicks, and drive revenue.

    That incentive matters.

    When information is designed to provoke emotion rather than provide clarity, it often becomes inflammatory, speculative, or fear-based. Headlines are written to reinforce our deepest worries about the world because fear keeps us scrolling. And for someone with an anxious mind, a steady diet of this kind of information can quietly but powerfully increase anxiety.

    Over time, it begins to feel like everything is falling apart, even when it isn’t.


    Why Information Isn’t the Enemy

    I’m not someone who believes all information is bad or that people with anxiety should avoid it altogether. In fact, I believe information can be both harmful and extremely helpful to the anxious mind.

    The difference isn’t how much information we consume – it’s what kind.

    I’m someone whose anxiety grows exponentially in the presence of uncertainty. When I don’t have reliable facts, my mind fills in the gaps on its own. And it rarely fills them with calm, measured possibilities. It fills them with worst-case scenarios.

    That’s where quality, factual information can actually be grounding.


    How Facts Can Calm an Anxious Mind

    I’ve always loved statistics. For example, if I’m preparing to take a flight, it’s genuinely comforting to know that, statistically, my odds of dying in a plane crash are far lower than my odds of being in a fatal car accident on the way to work.

    That kind of information does something important: it replaces imagination with reality.

    Instead of allowing my mind to speculate and “catastrophize”, factual information gives me a framework to understand risk accurately. It doesn’t eliminate anxiety entirely, but it keeps it from spiraling into fear that isn’t rooted in truth.

    I’ve found the same to be true when speaking with professionals or seeking out calm, credible sources of information. When facts replace uncertainty, many fears lose their power.


    The Problem With Sensational Information

    Because of this, I’ve learned to be intentional about what I expose myself to.

    Sensationalist, click-driven content rarely helps me manage anxiety. It tends to magnify fear without offering resolution. It trains the anxious mind to stay alert, suspicious, and on edge – always waiting for the next crisis.

    Factual information, on the other hand, can be stabilizing. It helps eliminate catastrophic possibilities that my mind is quick to invent when left unchecked.

    Not all information is equal. Some steadies us. Some unsettles us.

    Learning the difference matters.


    A Faith-Centered Anchor in an Information-Saturated World

    Finally, as Christians, we’re reminded that our faith offers something no news cycle ever can: timeless truth.

    Scripture reminds us that God already knows how the story ends. The One who holds all information – past, present, and future – is not overwhelmed by it. And He invites us to trust Him with what we cannot control.

    In a world of constant updates, breaking news, and endless speculation, creating daily space to step away from noise and seek Him has been one of the most important practices in my journey with anxiety. It’s a way of reminding my mind that I don’t have to carry the weight of knowing everything in order to be okay.


    Next Steps

    31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind grew out of this exact tension—learning how to replace noise with truth, urgency with steadiness, and constant information with daily grounding.

    It’s designed to help anxious minds slow down, reconnect with what is solid, and find calm in the midst of an overwhelming world.

    You can learn more about 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind here.

  • I went through a season with my anxiety where I would wake up about an hour after falling asleep in a full-on, aggressive panic attack.

    My wife said she could actually see my heart beating in my chest because of how hard and fast it was pounding. Imagine having a heart rate as high—or higher—than your fastest run on the treadmill, except you’re lying completely still in bed.

    And the heart rate was just the beginning.

    My fingers, toes, and much of my body were tingling, as if I’d been injected with adrenaline. The strangest part was the overwhelming urge to jump up and move or run. It wasn’t a thought—it was a command coming from somewhere deep inside my body. A true fight-or-flight response.

    So there I was—waking abruptly out of deep sleep—feeling like someone had thrown me out of a moving car.

    Almost immediately, my mind went to the same place every time: What if this is a heart attack?
    How fast can your heart actually beat before it stops, right?

    Even though I had written about grounding techniques in 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind, there is no substitute, in the moment, for getting your mind to do two very specific things.


    What Helped Me Calm My Mind in the Middle of the Attack

    First, I had to get my mind off the attack itself and place it somewhere calming.

    I used two mental anchors.

    The first was a mental image of a 15-acre piece of land my family had always dreamed of owning. I would imagine standing there at night, under the stars, breathing in quiet country air, letting my body remember what peace felt like.

    The second was repeating a favorite scripture over and over—forcing my mind to stay engaged with something good and grounding, and reminding myself that God was with me even in this.

    The second thing I had to do—no matter how hard it felt—was to accept, mentally, that I was not dying.

    As strange as it sounds, even after recovering from panic attacks again and again, each new one still felt different. More intense. More final.

    This one is different, my mind would say. This one is real.


    Why Nighttime Panic Often Hits About an Hour After Falling Asleep

    What I didn’t understand at the time—and what eventually changed everything—was that these attacks weren’t random. They followed a very specific pattern.

    About an hour after you fall asleep, your body begins to move into deeper stages of sleep. During this transition, several normal things happen all at once:

    • Your heart rate slows
    • Your blood pressure drops
    • Your breathing becomes slower and more shallow
    • Your muscles relax deeply

    For a calm nervous system, this feels restorative.

    But for a sensitized nervous system, these changes can feel unfamiliar—almost like something is wrong. Not consciously, but instinctively.

    Your brain’s job is to keep you alive. If it misinterprets these normal sleep-related shifts as danger, it does exactly what it’s designed to do: it pulls the emergency alarm.

    That alarm is adrenaline.

    And adrenaline doesn’t whisper—it shouts.

    It wakes you up.
    It accelerates your heart.
    It floods your body with energy.
    It demands movement.

    Not because you’re in danger—but because your body thinks you might be.


    Why Reassurance Doesn’t Work Right Away

    This is also why logical reassurance often doesn’t help in the moment.

    These nighttime panic attacks don’t start with fearful thoughts. They start from the body up, not the mind down. The fear comes after the sensations begin.

    That’s why you can wake up feeling calm one moment—and completely convinced you’re dying the next.

    Nothing is “wrong” with you.
    Your nervous system simply fired too hard, too fast.


    What I Eventually Realized About My Nighttime Panic

    Once I understood that these panic attacks were happening because my nervous system was still on high alert while the rest of my body was trying to shut down, a bigger question surfaced:

    Why was my nervous system so wound up in the first place?

    For me, the answer wasn’t found at night—it was found during the day.

    I was living in a constant state of anxiety. Even when nothing was actively going wrong, my mind was busy scanning for problems, replaying fears, and trying to stay one step ahead of everything that could go wrong. From the outside, my days probably looked normal. Internally, my system was never getting a break.

    By the time night came, my body was exhausted—but my nervous system didn’t know how to power down. So when my body began to relax during sleep, my brain misread that sudden change as danger and pulled the alarm.

    That’s why the solution to my nighttime panic attacks didn’t actually start at night. It started during the day.

    Learning to gently interrupt anxious thinking, give my mind moments of rest, and stop carrying every worry from morning to bedtime slowly changed how my body responded at night. As my days became calmer, my nervous system stopped panicking when sleep arrived.

    That process didn’t happen overnight. It took intentional, daily work.


    Next Steps

    31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind grew out of that season—out of learning how to help my mind unwind during the day so sleep wasn’t interrupted by panic at night.

    It isn’t about fixing yourself or forcing calm. It’s about creating small, steady moments of safety for your mind—so your body doesn’t feel the need to sound the alarm when it’s time to rest.

    If nighttime anxiety or panic attacks have ever left you afraid to fall asleep, you’re not alone—and you don’t have to figure this out by yourself.

    You can learn more about 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind here.

  • I will never forget the first panic attack I ever experienced.

    At the time, I was a young dad leading a fast-growing, highly successful business. As my responsibilities increased, so did my awareness of how much depended on me—and how easily it could all be lost if I didn’t perform. Those thoughts slowly took root. I began replaying them over and over in my mind.

    The pressure built quietly over months.

    When Anxiety Turned Physical

    One afternoon on my drive home from work, I started feeling chest pains. That immediately made me more concerned. My heart began beating faster. I felt short of breath. Then dizzy.

    As I pulled into my neighborhood, my heart went into full-on tachycardia—a very fast heart rate. I called 911 as I pulled into the driveway.

    My wife was terrified. So was I.

    The paramedics arrived and hooked me up to an EKG. Everything looked normal. As a precaution, I went to the ER, but again—everything checked out. The ER doctor told me it was a classic panic attack mirroring heart attack symptoms.

    I had no idea how similar panic attacks could feel to a heart attack.

    Since then, I’ve even experienced chest pain with numbness down my left arm during panic attacks—another symptom that closely resembles a cardiac event. I’m thankful I got checked out and confirmed that I was healthy. But it’s still amazing—and unsettling—what the body can do when it believes it’s in danger.


    Why Anxiety Feels So Intense in the Body

    When I get caught in an anxiety loop, my body shifts into fight-or-flight mode. It believes I’m under immediate threat and starts sending powerful signals designed to help me survive.

    My heart races. My breathing changes. I feel an overwhelming urge to get up, move, or escape—like I need to flee even though nothing around me is actually dangerous.

    The problem is that the threat isn’t real—but my body doesn’t know that.

    That first panic attack marked the beginning of my journey with anxiety and learning why it happens to me. For a long time, the physical symptoms alone were enough to trigger more anxiety. I’d feel my heart race, assume something was seriously wrong, and that fear would intensify the panic even further.


    Getting Checked Changed Everything

    After being thoroughly evaluated by a cardiologist and told my heart was healthy, something important shifted.

    I no longer allowed my fear to spiral when panic symptoms appeared.

    That leads me to one of the most practical pieces of advice I can offer anyone experiencing scary physical anxiety symptoms:

    Get checked out by a medical professional.

    Once you’ve been cleared, it becomes much easier to respond differently when panic starts. Instead of feeding the fear—“What if this is a heart attack?”—you can remind yourself:

    This is panic. I am safe. My body is reacting, not failing.

    That knowledge alone can dramatically reduce the intensity of future episodes.


    “What’s Wrong With Me?”

    When panic attacks first begin, it’s common to feel ashamed or confused.

    Thoughts like:

    • Am I weak?
    • Why can’t I handle stress like other people?
    • Am I broken—or crazy?

    The truth is far simpler and far more compassionate:

    Your body is doing exactly what it’s designed to do under perceived threat.

    The issue isn’t that your body is malfunctioning—it’s that your mind is convincing your body that danger is present when it isn’t. When we begin to address our thinking, we can begin to reduce the physical symptoms that follow.


    There Is Hope—And It Can Get Better

    Panic attacks and anxiety are incredibly common. You are not alone in this, even when it feels isolating.

    I can also tell you this with confidence: it can get better—much better.

    I’ve experienced significant improvement since learning the root causes of my anxiety and implementing daily practices that calm my thoughts, regulate my nervous system, and interrupt the patterns that lead to panic.

    This blog exists to share what has helped me—and others—find steadiness again.


    Next Steps

    If you’re looking for a daily way to ground your mind, calm your body, and begin retraining anxious thought patterns, you may find 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind helpful.

    It was created from lived experience—not theory—and designed to meet you right where you are.

    You don’t have to fix everything today.
    You just have to take the next small step.

  • Worst-case scenario thinking is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it allows us to see potential danger ahead and prepare for a future that could bring harm to us, our families, or our businesses. Used wisely, this kind of thinking can be healthy and protective.

    But if you struggle with anxiety, you already know the other side of this blade.

    Worst-case thinking, when left to run unchecked, can spiral quickly. It stops being preparation and turns into fixation – producing intense anxiety as the mind becomes consumed with a grim future that hasn’t even happened. I’m convinced this kind of thinking simply comes more naturally to some people than others. And if you have a tendency toward catastrophic or worst-case thinking, allowing your thoughts to run freely can trap you in constant analysis of a future problem, eventually leaving you overwhelmed and stuck.

    So what do we do?

    Years ago, I learned that if I wanted a life with less anxiety, I was going to have to take an active role in what I allowed to stay in my mind – and what I moved along quickly when it appeared. I don’t believe we can stop intrusive thoughts altogether, but I do believe we can redirect them.

    The question is: what do we redirect to?

    Here are a few of my personal go-to tools.

    Get busy with the task at hand.
    Not halfway, fully. When you’re fully engaged, your brain is forced to use its energy for the task in front of you rather than feeding your current worry. This kind of focus can clear mental space surprisingly fast.

    Force yourself to imagine the opposite outcome.
    If you’re going to be aggressive about worrying, try being just as aggressive about hope.
    What if I don’t lose my job – and instead, I get a promotion?
    What if my kids don’t get involved in drugs – and instead become strong faith leaders at their school?

    Fill your mind with Scripture.
    There is a promise from God for almost everything we worry about. Find the Scripture that speaks directly to your fear and repeat it until you believe it more than you believe your anxiety.

    As I was writing this, I was reminded of how many tools we actually have at our disposal to fight anxiety. I talk about these, and many more, in 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind. The hard part isn’t learning the tools. The hard part is remembering to use them daily.

    So will anxiety disappear without any effort on your part? Probably not. At least, that hasn’t been my experience. We all wish God would simply remove our struggles, but honestly – think of the lessons we’d miss, and the opportunities to trust Him that would never exist if He always gave us the shortcut.

    It’s okay to plan for the future. It’s okay to recognize danger. But once you’ve used that ability for something good, put it away. Redirect your attention back to the present moment.

    Future thinking is helpful in small doses.
    Don’t live there.

    Life is happening all around you right now.
    Be present for it today.


    Now What?

    If anxiety has become a daily companion for you, 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind was written to walk with you – one day at a time. It’s not clinical. It’s not rushed. It’s a simple, faith-centered rhythm designed to help you slow your thoughts, refocus your mind, and remember the tools you already have.

    Learn more about 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind and begin today.

  • Migraines used to be a regular byproduct of my nearly constant state of worry and anxiety.

    For me, it wasn’t just mental stress – it eventually became physical. I would spend so much time mentally managing potential future problems, replaying worst-case scenarios, and trying to stay one step ahead of everything that could go wrong. Eventually, that pressure would boil over. The result was always the same: visual aura and blind spots, followed about 30 minutes later by a pounding headache.

    For years now, I’ve managed this well using many of the tools I’ve learned along my anxiety journey. But recently, I was reminded of something important: letting your guard down – even briefly – can allow anxiety to quietly creep back in.

    And when it does, it often shows up in the body.

    Where I Went Wrong

    One of my most reliable anxiety-management tools has been regular massage. It’s something that helps my body relax and gives my mind a chance to completely shut off.

    Recently, because of how busy work had been, I didn’t make the time to schedule an appointment. I told myself it wouldn’t matter – just for a little while. Around the same time, I had about four different situations in my life that had the potential to cause anxiety. Nothing catastrophic, just enough uncertainty to keep my mind busy.

    Little by little, I allowed myself to dwell on those issues.

    Slowly, old patterns returned. I stopped intentionally bringing my attention back to the present moment and instead drifted into a future where all my worst fears became reality. I didn’t notice it happening at first. I just got a little lazy with the practices that had been keeping me grounded.

    Then one day, for the first time in years, I developed a migraine that completely took me out for the day.

    The Wake-Up Call

    After the migraine subsided, I finally scheduled that massage.

    When I left the appointment, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted. For 90 minutes, I didn’t think about anything. And for about five hours afterward, it honestly felt like I had taken a relaxation medication.

    That experience reminded me just how important it is – for me – to consistently do the things that help my body relax and clear my mind.

    Anxiety doesn’t always come crashing in all at once. Sometimes it returns quietly, when we stop paying attention.

    A Personal Reminder

    This experience was also a reminder to keep practicing the very things I talk about in 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind.

    You can’t afford to get apathetic about peace. It takes intentional effort. And I believe God expects us to use the tools, wisdom, and practices He gives us to live in a state of peace – not constant tension.

    Two Takeaways For Today

    1. Find what helps your mind and body relax – and protect it.
    Whether it’s massage, walking, prayer, breathing, journaling, or stillness, make it part of your daily, weekly, or monthly routine. Guard that routine carefully. Don’t let busyness crowd it out.

    2. Anxiety feeds on overthinking and future fear.
    An anxious mind is drawn to worry like a magnet. Practice the habit of gently re-focusing your attention on the present moment – not on a future that may never happen.


    Where To Go From Here

    If this resonates with you, 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind was created to help you build these kinds of daily habits – small, intentional pauses rooted in faith and real-life experience. It’s designed to be read one day at a time, especially in seasons when anxiety tries to take back ground you’ve already gained.