I’m the Mom Who Feels Like an Anxious Wreck Most Days

I struggle with anxiety. I am a worrier. Sue me.

I have been told its probably hard for my husband that I deal with anxiety, and I heartily agree. But its even harder on me. I have also been told that Christianity must not be working because if it worked, I wouldn’t be so fearful all the time.

If my faith was authentic, I would be at peace.

People have the notion that since I am so often limping along, dragging my frazzled nerves behind me, God must not be real. If He was real, I would not be suffering so much. I have had all sorts of suggestions.

Maybe if I found peace within, I would be better off.

Maybe if I found peace from the universe, I would be mellow.

Self-help books.


Hugged some crystals.

If I just tried something else, I would be courageous. But since I lack courage, I lack God. 

I totally get why people are confused.

If you wanted a poster child for the Christian faith, you wouldn’t choose me because I give God a bad name. I do not advertise the peace that passeth understanding, I will admit that. I would make a better candidate for a prozac commercial, and I would be the before example.

This would have bothered me a few years back.

I would have felt awful that I was turning people away from Jesus with my cowardice way of living.

Back before I realized that God doesn’t need me to uphold His reputation. Before I understood that people are dead in their sins before Jesus and since a dead person can’t do anything, they need to be brought to life first. I can’t breathe life into anyone. I can barely keep my dishes done. God does the calling. The saving. The rescuing. I am to share the Gospel, but I don’t save anyone. No, you don’t want me in charge of something so important as an eternal soul. I would mess that up so bad.

For decades I thought it was my burden to bring people to Jesus, so I tap danced my way to the church pew, hoping nobody would realize I was a fraud. Because then the gig would be up, and God would suffer because I was a miserable Christian. And darn, they would leave without saying the sinner’s prayer and it would be on my shoulders. Talk about anxiety.

Michelle Lindsey
Michelle Lindsey
Michelle Lindsey is a Jesus-loving wife of more than 2 decades and a homeschooling mom of four who blogs about what happens when romance meets reality (with her adult daughter!) at Nitty Gritty Love. You can find more Nitty Gritty Love on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram.

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