Dear friend: when my body is holding more anxiety than usual
what I'm holding onto as I listen to what my body is saying to me about what feels scary and hard
Dear friend,
I’m paying attention to where I can feel my anxiety in my body these days. My shoulders are tight. My muscles are tense. My neck tells me how much she’s holding. My brow furrows. My regular dreams feature political figures or scenes of danger with greater frequency than my occasional nightmare occurrence. I’m realizing the boundaries I’ve put around my phone in other seasons feel insufficient for the amount of headlines and concerning news that are coming each day.
I’m certainly not advocating putting our heads in the sand, but I’m noticing that my body is telling me how this is not sustainable. What is mine to do? is a question that has echoed in my head (and my art) often these days and helps me to take deep breaths, sometimes make a phone call1, but often postures me towards figuring out what we’re having for dinner2, putting my phone away, changing a diaper, cleaning our floors and going for a walk.
But I’m also holding Psalm 131 in mind these days. This psalm of only three verses uses the metaphor of a weaned child and has been a precious one for my heart since I first got to experience my own children, weaned and content in my arms.
My heart is not proud, Lord,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.Israel,3 put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had the pleasure of a one-year-old leaning their whole weight into you4, but it is something sweet to experience. Whether she’s needing a snuggle or wanting to show me something, my girl often leans all of her weight5 into me, fully expecting to be caught and held. There’s no doubt or hesitation as she comes close, ready for me to hold her.
Sometimes as I pull her into my lap, she’s quiet, sucking her thumb, and just letting me hold her. Sometimes we read together as she’s snuggled close. She’s getting tired and just wants to rest with me. Sometimes she lays her head on my shoulder, letting herself fully rest on me.
But other times, she’s fidgeting, needing to borrow my calm while she finds hers. She’s examining my earrings, turning my head from side to side to check if both ears match. She’s wiggling, sometimes getting in and out of my lap, coming to me for comfort before shuffling away, only to come back again a moment later.
As I’ve slowed down with Psalm 131 lately, I couldn’t help but hear the invitation to come to the Lord, whether I’m feeling quiet and content or restless and in need of borrowing some calm. I noticed how my heart responds to my girl, happy to be with her, eager to meet her needs, to let her come close to me, no matter what state she is in. I am not upset or irritated6 with her when she comes close to me, even if she doesn’t have the capacity to stay or settle with me.
I also heard the invitation of “what is mine to do?” echoed within the phrase, “I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.” I’m recognizing how much of my anxiety comes from concerning myself with things that I don’t have any (or much) power over.7 The Lord knows my limitations, what I’m already carrying in this season, and he can help me know what is mine to do. This certainly doesn’t mean I don’t care about the wellbeing of others or the impact of certain policies. I certainly do. But it means that I can be honest about my capacity and what my calling8 is, and trust that the Lord will hold the rest. Just like my daughter isn’t thinking about how our bills will be paid or when her next doctor’s appointment is or even what is for dinner, I can entrust the things that are not mine to do to the Lord. I can let him know when they feel worrisome and scary. I can come, return to his arms anytime I need to be held and borrow his calm.
Dear friend, thank you for being with me. I'd truly love to hear from you. Feel free to just hit "reply" to this email. I read and savor every email that comes my way, even if I don’t always have the space to respond (which is often these days, but I’m trying!) I’d be so glad to know if you’re feeling anxious these days or if my words brought up anything to the surface of your heart today.
Warmly,
Alison
PS. I’m so glad to write you this letter for free. It is a joy to do so. It is such a gift for you to be here, and I don’t need more thanks than that. But if you find my words helpful and would like to support me even more, here are a few ways to do so:
Forward this letter to a friend or invite them to sign up to get their own Dear Friend letter here.
Stay tuned for another Dear Friend letter soon!
If you’re like me and have phone anxiety, especially about calling one of your representatives, I’ve found 5calls.org to be such a helpful place. You can pick the issue (protecting Medicaid, tariffs, library funds, etc.) that matters to you, and you’re led to some different options for scripts and step-by-step for talking to your representatives. It is still a little intimidating for someone who hates making phone calls, but this has been a help to me.
This recipe is one of my current favorites & it truly takes under 20 minutes to throw together. It is already gluten free, and could easily be dairy free if you make it with coconut milk instead of cream. I often double it and add chicken for more protein. And since we’re often eating gluten free over here, I like to serve it with gluten free pasta or rice instead of the crusty bread. It is really delicious.
It has been a gift to insert my own name for “Israel” as I’ve read this at certain times.
I sincerely hope you have.
She’s currently at about 25 lbs, so this can be quite a lot of weight to have suddenly leaning on you.
Or if I am irritated, it is almost always about my own needs not being met. I’m learning to see irritation as an important clue into what I need. It is often a symptom of an unmet need that I’m working to get curious about, instead of shaming myself.
Again, this is not permission to put our heads in the sand, but an invitation to truly ask the Lord what he would have us do.
Laura Fanucci offered some incredibly helpful insight about general calling & specific calling, which felt really timely for me in this area of what is mine to do. She saved it in a highlight “for you” on her Instagram (you have to go past a few saved stories in that highlight from September & October to get to the slides from last week that I’m talking about) if you’re interested. I can’t stop thinking about this and screenshotted some of what she shared for myself to remember. Highly recommend following her for thoughtful, grounded wisdom.