Anxiety; Taming the Monster that Won’t Go Away

According to a 2018 study, anxiety affects over 18% of the population. Anxiety has in fact replaced depression as the number one mental health challenge people face in the United States. Many of us have bouts with anxiety, and almost every one of us knows someone who regularly struggles in this area.

While I understand that some situations call for a professional’s help, and I don’t claim to have the magic solution to solve the world’s problems in this area, I hope to have something to contribute.

Thankfully, the Bible acknowledges anxiety as a common affliction even in the ancient world. Some of the heroes of the Bible struggled with anxious thoughts. What we are facing is nothing new, even if it appears to be much more prevalent.

So, is there hope for us? Can we live at a different level? How can we deal with such a formidable monster?

When Fear Comes

For some of us, anxiety begins with confusion or perhaps even surprise. Many of us have a template laid out for our lives, and life has a way of shattering that template. When this happens, we are caught off guard, like a sports team that has a great game plan but gets thrown off balance by its opponent and never manages to implement the plan.

The what-has-happened turns into what-ifs, and the what-ifs begin to multiply.

For others, anxiety grows from perfectionism. We have a picture in our minds of how our lives or our conduct ought to go, and we become our own harshest critics when we fall short. Because perfection is an impossible target, we live on edge, waiting for the next failure.

Still others struggle with specific fears—health, loss, catastrophe, the future. And some of us honestly cannot pinpoint the reason at all. Anxiety simply descends on us, and before we know it, it starts to overpower us.

Then comes one of the ugliest traps of all: we become anxious because we are anxious.

“Look at me,” we think. “I’m worrying!”

Now we have two problems instead of one.

David offers us a remarkably different response.

Psalm 56 comes from a frightening period in David’s life. According to the superscription, the psalm concerns the time when the Philistines seized him in Gath. While we don’t know all the circumstances, we can be fairly certain that David was not composing this psalm in a place of safety. He was surrounded by enemies and had legitimate reasons to be afraid.

And yet listen to what he says:

“When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.” (Psalm 56:3)

Notice what David does not say:

Because I trust God, I am never afraid.

Instead, David essentially says:

When fear comes, I know what to do with it.

That distinction is profound.

Fear is not necessarily evidence that we have failed spiritually. As we have noted, anxiety can arise for many reasons. The first step may simply be to acknowledge what is happening without adding self-condemnation to it.

David names the fear.

Then he redirects himself.

Shrink the Monster Back to Size

David continues:

“In God, whose word I praise,
In God I have put my trust;
I shall not be afraid.
What can mere man do to me?” (Psalm 56:4)

“In God, whose word I praise” tells us something important about what David is doing: David counters what fear is telling him by deliberately rehearsing what God has said and choosing to treat God’s word as more trustworthy than the threat in front of him. And something begins to happen:

The threat starts shrinking.

One reason anxiety becomes so overwhelming is that the threat grows until it fills our entire field of vision. The medical report. The relationship. The financial problem. The decision we cannot make. The thing that might happen tomorrow. “What if. What if. What if . . . .”

It gets bigger and bigger.

We desperately need a shrinking agent.

David finds his by simply fixing his attention on God.

Notice that David’s enemies have not disappeared. His circumstances haven’t necessarily changed at all. What has changed is their apparent size. Once God fills David’s field of vision, the threat is forced back into proportion.

Now David can look at the very people he fears and ask: “What can mere man do to me?”

Fear magnifies.
Faith puts things back into proportion.

This isn’t denial. David isn’t pretending that the danger isn’t real. He is seeing the danger in relation to something—and Someone—much greater.

But David does something else. Later in the same psalm, he remembers that God has been paying attention all along:

“You have taken account of my wanderings and put my tears in Your bottle.
Are they not in Your book?” (Psalm 56:8)

The God David trusts is not watching his suffering from a distance. He knows his wanderings. He has seen his tears. Nothing has escaped His notice.

David’s fear is real.
But so is God’s attention.

Paul Gives Us a Process

David gives us the posture. Paul helps give us the process.

In Philippians 4:6–8, Paul doesn’t merely tell anxious believers, “Stop worrying.” He gives them somewhere to go with their anxiety.

The movement of the passage is important.

Anxiety arises. → Turn it into prayer.

Bring the specific thing that is troubling you before God. Paul speaks of prayer, supplication, thanksgiving, and requests. In other words, don’t merely sit there and replay the problem.

Take the thought that keeps coming back and turn it into a prayer that keeps coming back.

Please lock onto this next thought:

Prayer is not merely therapy.
We pray because we believe God actually hears us and acts.

But something also happens to us in the process: the more we turn toward God, the less the threat controls our attention.

Then Paul introduces something that can easily be overlooked:

Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving forces us to remember that the crisis in front of us is not the entire story of our lives. God has acted before. He has provided before. He has sustained us before. The thing frightening us today does not erase everything God did yesterday.

Then comes the promise:

“The peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”(Philippians 4:7)

And then Paul moves directly to the mind.

Whatever is true.
Whatever is honorable.
Whatever is right.
Whatever is pure.
Whatever is lovely.
Whatever is of good repute.
Whatever is excellent.
Whatever is worthy of praise.

Think about these things.

Notice the process, now before us in full:

Anxiety → Prayer → Thanksgiving → Peace → Redirected Thought

Paul is not simply telling us what not to think about.
He is giving our minds somewhere else to go.

It is essential to grasp this step in the process because anxious thoughts thrive on attention. We replay them. We examine them. We turn them around and examine them from a different angle. We project them into the future. Then we retrieve them and start the process all over again.

Paul is instructing us to interrupt this cycle.

We cannot always determine which thought knocks on the door.
But we can become increasingly intentional about which thoughts we invite inside and entertain.

When the Monster Comes at Night

There is one time when anxious thoughts especially assault us: nighttime.

Anxieties thrive at night.

The distractions disappear. The house gets quiet. We wake up at 2:00 in the morning, and suddenly a concern that seemed manageable at two in the afternoon dominates our front screen and commands our full attention.

And the what-ifs start multiplying.

The psalmist knew the experience:

“When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,
Your consolations delight my soul.” (Psalm 94:19)

Notice: He has both.

Anxious thoughts.
Consolations.

When you are assaulted in the middle of the night, keep in mind:

All of us have anxious thoughts, and all of us have consolations.

Even in terrible circumstances, God gives us reminders of His presence and care. The problem is that anxiety is usually louder.

So give God’s consolations a voice.

Before you go to bed, identify several concrete reminders of God’s care for you. Don’t settle for abstractions. Remember something specific:

· A prayer He answered.

· A person He sent.

· A provision you didn’t expect.

· A Scripture you came across exactly when you needed it.

· A door He opened—or perhaps one He mercifully closed.

Then, when the monster starts rehearsing his list: push back with yours.

This is exactly what David did.

Fear spoke.
David rehearsed God’s word.
The threat grew large.
David looked toward God until the threat returned to its proper size.

Don’t Fight Alone

There is one more thing we need to do.

Reach out.

Anxiety often tells us to withdraw. We don’t want to burden anyone. We may be embarrassed that we are struggling. Sometimes we assume that mature Christians shouldn’t need help.

But isolation gives anxious thoughts an enormous room in which to echo.

God does not normally will that we fight our battles alone.
Even Jesus took Peter, James, and John with Him to Gethsemane.
Tell a trusted friend or loved one what is happening. Sometimes one good friend can make an enormous difference. Ask that person to pray for you and with you. Sometimes we need another believer to remind us of truths that anxiety has temporarily blocked from our line of sight.

Consider an additional step in this direction: If your circle is small, enlarge it. Go somewhere you haven’t gone before. Join an organization that interests you. Become part of a group. Begin a conversation. Sometimes the support we need begins by taking the initiative to build the relationships we don’t yet have.

Further, keep in mind that, when anxiety is persistent, really severe, or interfering significantly with everyday life, reaching out may also mean talking with a qualified professional. Seeking appropriate help is not a repudiation of prayer or faith. It is simply another way of refusing to fight alone.

A Word From a Friend

Years ago, when I told a friend that my anxious thoughts were morphing into something I couldn’t manage, he said something I have never forgotten:

“You’re a believer. You don’t have to take that.”

He wasn’t telling me that believers never experience anxiety.

David did.

The psalmist did.

Paul knew enough about anxiety to address it directly.

My friend was saying that anxiety did not have to be granted unlimited authority over my life.
We don’t have to surrender that easily.

So when fear comes: Name it.

Then do what David did: Redirect your gaze toward God.

Rehearse what God has said until the threat begins to shrink back into proportion.

Do what Paul tells us:
Turn anxious thoughts into prayer. → Remember God’s goodness with thanksgiving. → Receive His peace. →Deliberately redirect your mind toward what is true.

When anxious thoughts multiply: Answer them with God’s consolations.

And when the battle becomes too heavy to carry alone: Reach out.

Anxiety is real, and Scripture never asks us to deny that. It asks us to confront it with truth, with prayer, with remembrance, with community, with the God who sees every tear and every wandering.

When anxiety comes, we don’t pretend it isn’t real.

We simply refuse to let it have the last word.

Share Your Thoughts
We all have anxious thoughts at times. What is one thing you have learned—perhaps from Scripture, perhaps from experience—that has helped you push back when anxious thoughts begin to take over? Your answer may be exactly what someone else needs to hear.