featured image

Johanna Stamps looks at the inner workings of worry, offering hope, inspiration, and a practical approach for handling those late-night attacks.

Worry comes up at the most inopportune moments. It is never a welcome guest. I thought I was beyond the cycle of rumination. It feels like my body is being twisted from my stomach to my throat. The voices are loud: “HOW CAN YOU STILL NOT HAVE CLARITY ON THIS?” or “ARE YOU EVER GOING TO REACH THIS NEXT LEVEL? WHAT’S TAKING YOU SO LONG?” The voices of insecurity in my head come like a tornado, circling back quickly, and then come around again once I think I’m free. 

This time it’s 1:00 a.m., and the little one has just woken up with a leaky diaper. I change him and tuck him in again. I look at the little one and the weight of his life weighs on my shoulders. Instead of my brain putting the “We’re closed” sign in the window, it’s as if the blinding pink neon “Open” sign is flickering. The sign is attracting worried thoughts like gnats. They come in quick succession. 

Some of the thoughts are far-fetched What-if’s and some are the enduring Why questions. Some of the thoughts are mean assessments that sound like remarks from petty 13-year-olds who spit back at one another. A few hit me in the gut, asking questions of my parenting style or the choices I’ve made for our future. 

I don’t want to just silence the voices this time. I don’t want to distract myself with something else. Instead, I want to silence them enough so that they never return. I’m walking through and letting myself weep tears when it’s just too much. It’s Psalm 13 that resonates most deeply with me in this moment:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

worried woman can't sleep

 

It’s these moments that can shake me at my core. I go grasping for that escape hatch, but instead, I find space to just sit and breathe. 

Instead of escape, I find rumination’s cousin: Reflection. I ask questions like, “Is this true?” One of my questions breaks the painful succession, and the attack slows down. I breathe for a moment, and my heartbeat slows down. I hear and feel Psalm 46:10-11: 

Be still and know that I am God ... The Lord Almighty is with us.

A friend and coach recently put it this way: 

Rumination:

  • the process of continuously thinking about the same thoughts, which tend to be sad or dark
  • dangerous to your mental health, as it can prolong or intensify depression, as well as impair your ability to think and process emotions
  • often leads to regret 

Reflection:

  • the process that turns experience into knowledge. Reflection is described as a form of problem-solving that is used to resolve issues
  • a habit of reflection will bring greater self-awareness and learning opportunities
  • often leads to growth

20210702 JStamps 2 

 

Click to tweet:
Worry comes up at the most inopportune moments. It is never a welcome guest. #catholicmom

The process of stopping worry often feels like standing in the tracks of an oncoming train. With the tool of reflection, it’s more like pushing a shopping cart off course. Prayerful reflection brings powerful truth and replacement troops to fight alongside me. It brings me to that place of, “I can’t do this alone, so you better come quick!”

Perhaps you can feel a train heading down the tracks towards you. What powerful questions or heart wrenching cries do you need to speak right now to push the wheels off course?


Copyright 2021 Johanna Stamps
Images (from top): Canva Pro; Boram Kim (2016), Unsplash