Anxiety is hard.

Anxiety doesn’t ring the doorbell. It lets itself in and makes itself comfortable before you even realize it’s there. It starts talking, and it won’t stop. It sees all the glasses you’ve worked so hard to see as half full, and it shatters them. It rummages through each and every room of your heart, looking for the most vulnerable thing it can find. And it takes that thing and puts it on display. It shines a spotlight on it. And it becomes the only thing you can focus on. But you’ve done this before. You’ve examined this thing top to bottom, front to back, outside to inside. You’ve dissected it. You’ve taken it apart and put it back together. Yet, it still hits the same nerve. Causes the same fear. Lights up the same insecurity. Over. And over. And over again.

I’ll be honest. My anxiety has been extremely high lately. And it feels a lot like this. But although anxiety feels like a vicious cycle, I’m so thankful for Jesus in the midst of it. He makes himself known in the most beautiful ways.

When he steps in, he puts everything back in its place. He says, “Be still,” and silences the voice that won’t stop. He restores and refills my broken glasses. He takes my vulnerabilities off display. He speaks life into them. He heals them. He reminds me that those things don’t define me. He puts me back together again.

And although that unwelcome visitor inevitably returns, I get stronger and stronger each time. The damage minimizes. And Jesus is always there to wrap me in his arms and remind me that I belong to him, not anxiety. He never tires of taking my broken pieces and making them beautiful. And I’m so thankful.