Book Club: Small Efforts Move Us from Fear to Faith

For our Book Club, Ginny Kochis sums up three steps for shifting our mindset away from anxiety and toward hope.

One thing that has always vexed me about anxiety is the question of moving away from it:

How are you supposed to walk away when the fear of change is anxiety-inducing, too? For someone like me (a chronic, clinically anxious individual with an overactive imagination) the mere possibility of climbing from the deep and into the sunlight is terrifying prospect.

Really.

Because anxiety is a tricky mistress. She worms her way into your neural pathways and sets up a comfortable shop, relying on your brain's tendency to follow the path of least resistance: to stick to what it has practiced and what it knows.

And what does it know? That the anxiety-prone are thrown into a panic by the possibility of what if.

It knows that we’re afraid of change and the unknown, whether it be in our plans, our lives, or our futures. It knows we're intimately acquainted with two-thirds of the word static’s varied definitions:

1. in one place; immovable; unchanging

crackling or hissing noises on a telephone, radio, or other communications device

Translation: we’re afraid of forward momentum (among other things) and unable to hear God’s voice through the chaos.

Fortunately for the anxious, ironclad worrier, Gary Zimak is a gentle guide. In this fourth week of Lent, Zimak approaches our particular brand of stasis with suggestions for a shift in mindset. He doesn’t expect anyone to turn off worry automatically. Rather, he encourages small efforts that lead us away from fear and anxiety into faith, trust, and hope.

First, find miracles

I tend toward negativity as a rule. My MO is to bury myself under a pile of frustrations and worries, ignoring the good and the beautiful in my life. Speaking from his personal experience, Zimak suggests that I turn my attention to even the smallest of God’s moments in my day-to-day, a gradual way to turn negativity on its head. So, instead of fixating on the fears and moments that make me miserable, I’m endeavoring to seek out goodness. I’m retraining my brain to seek the His presence before I run headlong for the anxiety hills.

Next, start small

While there's no denying the clinical, medical nature of my anxiety, I do think anxiety can still become a habit of sorts. As I mentioned earlier, it’s the brain’s way of sticking to the most comfortable, familiar pathways and processes. Like humanity in general, the brain prefers what it knows.

This is why I love Zimak's encouragement to just take the next small step. Like when I catch myself catastrophizing over the very (not) real possibility my runny nose means I have sinus cancer, I can pray a decade of the Rosary instead. Zimak has helped me see that the more I replace negative thoughts with deliberate moments of trust and prayer in a crisis, the easier it becomes to leave anxiety behind.

Finally, learn to listen

The world is busy. Social media is ever-present. It’s all noise that’s hard to filter out. I’ve felt so far away from God lately that prayer, Mass, and even the sacraments feel like I’m participating via dial-up internet. The connection is super slow, and that screeching, dial tone-esque cacophony just doesn’t want to quit.

But Zimak comes to my rescue again, offering a communication tip I had woefully forgotten about. He recommends finding a moment to rest in the silence and ask the Holy Spirit to help you hear God’s whispers. Like the oft-repeated suggestion to ask the Holy Spirit’s guidance in prayer time, this technique isn’t just effective, it’s comforting. What a beautiful reminder that I don’t have to do this anxiety thing alone.

Yes, anxiety is a tricky mistress. She does her level best to keep me trapped in a loop of catastrophe and avoidance. But with Zimak’s advice and the Holy Spirit’s presence, I’m feeling more confident in my efforts to drop anxiety by the wayside. I’m pretty pleased by my efforts to give up worrying for Lent.

Discussion questions:

Take a moment to reflect on God’s presence in your life, the little miracles you’ve witnessed but might not keep in the forefront of your mind. How do these moments show God’s providence in your day-to-day?

What small steps can you take to replace negative or anxious thoughts with God’s peace? Repeating a verse of scripture? Praying an Our Father? Something else?

How often have you asked the Holy Spirit to help you hear God’s voice? What are some reminders you can put in place to help you remember to do just that?