Most of the anxiety we deal with isn’t just about overthinking or some vague “chemical imbalance” floating around in our brain. That stuff can be real, sure. But at the core? Deep down, beneath all the spirals and symptoms and sleepless nights, there’s often something much harder to admit:
We don’t trust Him.
There it is.
That’s the line we don’t want to say out loud. Because we sing the songs, we quote the verses, we tell our friends we believe God is good. We wear the T-shirts, listen to the podcasts, even pray before meals. But when the pressure hits? When life gets uncertain or our comfort gets threatened? That’s when the cracks show.
That’s when fear rushes in. When control becomes an obsession. When sleep runs away and we lie there at night doing mental gymnastics trying to prepare for every possible outcome—just in case God drops the ball.
We don’t say it like that, of course. We’d never dare.
But our anxiety says it for us.
Anxiety Is a Symptom—Not the Disease
Look, anxiety’s not always loud. It’s not always a panic attack or sweaty palms or racing thoughts. Sometimes it’s just this constant hum of dread. This low-grade “something’s about to go wrong” that follows you around like a shadow.
But that shadow? It’s not random.
It’s pointing to something.
And most of the time, what it’s pointing to is this quiet, unspoken fear that God might not come through. That He’s either not paying attention or He’s not going to do what’s best—or at least what we think is best.
So we start trying to take control. We cling tighter. We obsess. We plan. We overthink. And then we call it “being responsible” or “just trying to be wise.”
But underneath all of it, if we’re honest, we’re afraid that the One who holds the universe might forget to hold us.
That’s the root.
Not a random emotion.
Not just bad habits or bad sleep or bad food.
But a break in trust.
Control Is a Trust Problem
Let’s talk about control for a minute. Because it’s the drug of choice for most anxious people. We don’t want chaos. We don’t want surprises. We want to know what’s going to happen, how it’s going to happen, and that we’re going to be okay when it does.
But God doesn’t work like that. He never has.
He gives peace—but not control.
He gives presence—but not a play-by-play.
And for those of us addicted to certainty, that’s maddening.
But here’s the thing: control is always a lie. We never had it to begin with. We think planning more will keep us safe. We think worrying ahead of time will somehow protect us. But all it does is drain us. All it does is prove, over and over, that we don’t actually believe He’s enough.
Not until we finally hit that wall—when everything we tried fails, and all that’s left is trust. Not because we’re strong. But because we’ve got no choice.
And that’s when He does His best work.
We Trust Ourselves More Than Him
That’s the bitter truth, isn’t it? We trust our ability to plan more than His wisdom. We trust our savings account more than His provision. We trust our own reasoning more than His promises.
And when any of those things get shaken—even slightly—we panic.
Because we’ve built our security on something that can crumble.
We’ve built it on ourselves.
And trust me, I’ve done it too. I’ve placed my peace in everything but Christ and then wondered why it never lasts. Why it breaks down every time life shifts. It’s not that God abandoned me. It’s that I trusted something else to carry the weight only He could carry.
It’s not sin in the scandalous sense. But it is idolatry.
Soft. Subtle. But still deadly.
Faith Isn’t a Feeling—It’s a Decision
Let’s clear this up: you can feel anxious and still choose to trust God.
You can feel fear creeping up your spine, and still say out loud, “Lord, I trust You.”
You can wake up with your chest tight and your thoughts spinning, and still decide to place your hope in His Word, not your circumstances.
Trust isn’t always calm. Sometimes it’s shaking hands and a weak voice and a “God, please help me believe You” kind of whisper. That’s still trust. That counts.
But it has to be chosen.
Every day.
Especially when it doesn’t feel easy.
And over time—slowly but surely—your emotions begin to line up with what your spirit already knows: He is faithful. Even when life isn’t.
You Won’t Trust Someone You Don’t Know
If you don’t spend time with Him, how are you supposed to trust Him?
You can’t trust a stranger. You might respect Him. You might even believe He exists. But trust? That only comes through relationship.
And relationship takes time.
It means being quiet with Him. It means opening your Bible when no one’s watching. It means sitting in the tension, asking hard questions, and letting Him speak into the places you’d rather avoid.
Because the more you know Him, the more you’ll see He’s trustworthy.
Not just because He gives you what you want—but because He is who He says He is.
Good.
Kind.
Sovereign.
Patient.
Near.
Even in the waiting.
Even in the fear.
Even in the disappointment.
He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t walk away. He doesn’t say “trust Me” with crossed fingers behind His back.
You can build your life on Him. That’s not a catchphrase. That’s the truth.
So How Do You Start?
Not with a perfect prayer. Not with some magical revelation.
But with honesty. You start by telling Him the truth.
“Lord, I’m scared. I say I trust You, but I don’t. Not really. Help me.”
That prayer?
That’s where healing begins.
That’s where the fear starts to lose its grip.
Not instantly. Not all at once. But little by little, as your roots sink deeper into the truth that your peace doesn’t come from getting what you want. It comes from knowing who He is—and trusting that He’s better than whatever you’re trying to hold onto.
So yeah, anxiety feels awful. But it doesn’t have to rule you. And no, trust isn’t always natural.
But it is possible.
Start small. Be real. And keep going.
He’s not afraid of your fear. He just doesn’t want it to have the final say.
Let Him show you what peace really looks like—not the kind the world offers, but the kind that stays steady even when nothing else does.
The kind that only comes from trust.
And the trust that only comes from Him.