How Anxiety Deepened My Faith

“How do you live as a Christian when you struggle with anxiety?”

She asked the question quietly, almost apologetically. As if she expected to be corrected. As if she were bracing for the familiar refrain: Just have more faith.

I knew that look. I have worn it.

For as long as I can remember, anxiety has followed me. As a child, it was fear of the dark. As a teenager, it grew into fears about illness, death, and the future. As an adult, it sometimes feels like a constant hum beneath the surface of daily life.

And in church settings, anxiety is often whispered about as though it were simply a spiritual failure.

But what my anxiety taught me about God is something very different.

Is Anxiety a Sin or a Struggle?

Many sincere Christians wrestle with this question. Scripture does command us not to be anxious (Philippians 4:6). Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow (Matthew 6:34). So when anxiety lingers, we can feel ashamed as though our struggle proves our faith is defective.

Yet the Bible is full of men and women who experienced deep distress.

In Psalm 94:18–19, he writes:

“When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,’
your love, O LORD, supported me.
When my anxiety was great within me,
your consolation brought joy to my soul.”

David does not pretend his anxiety is small. He calls it great. And yet he does not describe God rebuking him into silence. He describes God consoling him.

The Bible does not shy away from emotional struggle. Nearly one-third of the Psalms are categorized as laments prayers that give voice to fear, grief, and confusion. God included these in Scripture for a reason.

Anxiety may involve sinful responses at times, but it is also part of living in a fallen world. Our nervous systems are fragile. Our knowledge is limited. Our control is nonexistent.

And that realization is where my anxiety began teaching me something profound about God.

We Are Not Meant to Face Anxiety Alone

One of the first lessons anxiety taught me is that isolation makes everything worse.

In many Western cultures, self-reliance is celebrated. We keep our struggles private. We hesitate to burden others. Yet Scripture paints a different picture of the Christian life. We are called to bear one another’s burdens, to pray together, to encourage one another daily.

When I first spoke openly about my anxiety, I expected dismissal. Instead, I experienced relief. A trusted friend simply squeezed my hand and reminded me that the Lord holds me anyway.

Studies estimate that around 30% of adults will experience an anxiety disorder at some point in their lives. Even within churches, many silently struggle. When we refuse to speak about anxiety, we create the illusion that we are alone.

But darkness thrives in secrecy.

When we bring anxiety into the light with a pastor, counselor, or trusted believer it loses some of its power. God often comforts us through His people. Community is not a luxury in the Christian life; it is a design feature.

It Is OK to Ask Hard Questions

Anxiety often feeds on unanswered questions.

Why do children get cancer?
Why do tragedies seem random?
Why does God sometimes feel silent?
How can a loving God allow suffering?

For years, I feared that asking such questions would weaken my faith. But suppressing them only intensified my anxiety.

The truth is that Christianity has never required blind belief. For two thousand years, thoughtful believers have wrestled with suffering, doubt, and mystery. The resurrection is not a fragile claim that collapses under scrutiny. It is a historical assertion that has been examined from every angle.

Faith does require trust, yes. But it is not faith without reason.

There are questions we cannot fully answer because we are finite. Yet there are deeper truths that anchor us: God is holy. God is just. God is love. And in Christ, God entered our suffering.

When anxiety pushes us to ask hard questions, it can actually drive us deeper into theology rather than away from it. It forces us to clarify what we believe about God’s character.

Truth holds up.

The Lord Does Not Abandon Us in Our Anxiety

Some of my most anxious moments have come at night, when the house is quiet and the “what if” thoughts grow loud. In those hours, I have turned again and again to the Psalms.

David’s prayers are raw. He speaks of fear, enemies, tears, and despair. Yet woven through every lament is a return to trust.

God never shames him for feeling. Instead, He meets him there.

What my anxiety taught me about God is this: He is not surprised by my racing thoughts. He is not impatient with my trembling heart. He is not waiting for me to achieve emotional perfection before drawing near.

Psalm 34:18 says the Lord is near to the brokenhearted. Not the polished. Not the composed. The brokenhearted.

And ultimately, the cross confirms this nearness. Jesus did not remain distant from human anguish. He experienced betrayal, grief, abandonment, and physical torment. On the cross, He carried not only our sins but also the weight of a world fractured by fear.

My anxiety is not beyond the reach of redemption.

Grace Looks Different Than I Expected

Before anxiety, I tended to think of grace primarily in terms of forgiveness. But through anxiety, I have begun to see grace as God’s steady presence in weakness.

Grace is what keeps me from collapsing when my thoughts spiral.
Grace is what sends a friend at just the right moment.
Grace is what reminds me that my standing with God depends on Christ’s righteousness, not my emotional stability.

According to global research, anxiety disorders are among the most common mental health challenges worldwide. If that is true, then many believers are quietly wondering whether God is disappointed in them.

The gospel answers clearly: our acceptance before God rests entirely on Jesus. Not on how calm we feel. Not on how steady our pulse is. Not on whether we had a panic-free week.

Romans 8 assures us that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. Not even anxious thoughts.

What Anxiety Has Ultimately Taught Me

Anxiety has taught me that I am not in control.

It has taught me that I do not know the future.

It has taught me that my mind can betray me.

But it has also taught me that God remains steady when I am not.

He does not abandon me in the middle of spiraling fears. He does not revoke His promises when my faith feels small. He does not measure my Christianity by my chemistry.

There are mysteries I cannot untangle. There are questions that may remain unanswered this side of eternity. But this much is clear: God is not sinister. He is not cold. He is not standing at a distance with folded arms.

He is a God who saves.

And one day, when Christ makes all things new, even anxiety will be undone. Until then, I cling to this truth: the Lord’s consolation can still bring joy to an anxious soul.

If this encouraged you, consider sharing it with someone who quietly carries anxious burdens or subscribe to our newsletter for more reflections on faith in the midst of real life.