Anxiety, God, and the Body That Is Trying to Keep You Alive

Anxiety is not a flaw. It is a part of you.

All parts of us are good. Anxiety is one of those parts that exists to interpret the world around us and keep us safe. It is a built-in safety guide. A primitive, fast-acting system designed for survival.

Think: Bigfoot in the woods. Think: The smell of gas in your house.

Anxiety scans, detects, and alerts. It shows up in an instant because it has to. Long before language, theology, or logic, our bodies needed a way to say, pay attention or run.

This is where fight, flight, freeze, or fawn live. These are not character traits. They are nervous system responses.

Anxiety is also the most jealous of our emotions. When it senses danger, it does not ask politely for the microphone. It takes over the whole system. Totalitarian, yes, but with one motive: protection.

That uncomfortable sensation in your chest, stomach, jaw, or shoulders has a purpose. Anxiety is information. It tells you how you are interpreting what is happening around you, and sometimes what has happened before.

It appears fast. It can linger long. Especially when the threat feels ongoing, vague, or internal.

Anxiety is not a sin.

Anxiety is part of our design. It helps us activate and respond to real situations. And yes, it can also become debilitating. Both can be true.

So what is the Bible actually talking about when it speaks about anxiety?

Ancient teachings are rarely about shaming the body. They are almost always about orientation. About where we place our attention. About control.

The desire for control is also part of our design. Control creates a sense of safety. But should we be cruel or critical of ourselves when we notice we are reaching for it?

When we label anxiety as sin, notice what happens in the body. Tightening. Fear. Shame. Self-policing.

Sin is often defined as anything we think, do, or say that is contrary to what God desires for us. If God is good, then what does God desire?

Freedom. A clear mind. A present mind. A body at rest enough to enjoy what is given.

When teaching becomes policing, we shame ourselves for how we show up in a world that is, honestly, hard and sometimes scary. We fear the future. Then we shame ourselves for fearing. This is where scrupulosity thrives.

Is it any wonder anxiety grows louder???

What are ancient texts actually offering?

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in prayer and petition, present your requests to God."

Read that again, and listen for the tone.

Is this voice sharp? Exasperated? Disappointed that you messed up again?

Or is it soft? Knowing? Kind?

I imagine a voice that understands how hard it is to live on this planet. A voice that knows what it is like to have a body. A voice offering a different way of showing up.

"Come to me, all who are weary." "My yoke is easy and my burden is light."

This is not condemnation. This is invitation.

Prayer, here, is not a performance.

It is not another checklist.

It is a shift in attention.

A loosening of grip.

A reorientation away from constant scanning and toward trust.

Freedom is not frantic. It is often quiet. Childlike. Simple.