Unpacking the Weight: Finding Peace in a Stress-Filled Life
A reflection on exhaustion, transformation, and the God who carries us through

You know, I’m just beginning to realize the toll the last few years have taken on me.

I didn’t fully see it at the time—the slow buildup of physical, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion. It crept in quietly as I poured myself into my work. First at a juvenile justice facility, then as the primary therapist for an adolescent intensive outpatient rehab. Both good jobs. Both worthwhile. Both heavy.

It’s been a little over two months since stepping into private practice, and for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like myself again.

The Quiet Cost of Carrying Too Much

I think we all hit these seasons—the ones where we run hard, carry more than we realize, and only stop long enough to feel the weight when we finally set it down.

Now that I’ve had a little space to breathe (and time to reflect), I’ve started considering all of this from a Biblical point of view. And, as always, God’s Word speaks directly into it.

James 1:2–4 reminds us to “count it all joy when we face trials of various kinds.”
Not because the trials themselves feel good—but because they produce something good.

These difficulties are not wasted. They refine us. They transform us.
They shape us into the image of Christ.

Romans 8:28–29 echoes this: All things work together for good—not just for comfort, but for conformity—that we might be shaped more and more into Christlikeness. Sometimes that good is patience. Sometimes it’s endurance. Sometimes it’s simply learning to let go.

Just knowing God is in control and working things for good has helped ease some of the stress.
This is how Paul was able to persevere through suffering with peace and joy (2 Corinthians 4:16–18). He didn’t ignore the pain—he anchored himself in God’s promises.

The Rhythms of Jesus

Jesus Himself modeled a life that included intentional rest and time away.

He carved out moments for solitude.
He stepped away from the crowd.
He prayed often—not just to ask, but to align. To be with the Father.

Psalm 16:8–11 reminds us of what happens when we keep our eyes on God: we will not be shaken. His presence becomes our peace. And often, it’s not our situation that changes first—but our hearts.

Guarding Our Thoughts, Choosing Our Focus

Jesus told us not to let our hearts be troubled (John 14:27). But stress has a way of stealing our peace and focusing our thoughts on everything that’s going wrong.

Proverbs 4:23 reminds us to guard our hearts, because everything flows from them.

That means paying attention to our thoughts—bringing them under the authority of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). It means recognizing when our thinking spirals into fear, pessimism, or pressure, and gently redirecting our focus.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Psalm 90:12:
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

That verse feels more real to me now than it ever has.
Lately, the phrase “major on the majors and minor on the minors” has been running through my head—sometimes at odd times (and no, for you therapists reading this, I’m not becoming obsessive, I promise!).

But I am becoming more deliberate.

I’m considering how I spend my time.
What I give my energy to.
What matters enough to carry—and what I can finally set down.

Cultivating Gratitude in the Middle of It All

One practice that’s helping me in this process is giving thanks.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us to “give thanks in all things.”
Not for all things—but in them.

There’s power in pausing to count what’s still good. To name what we’re thankful for even in seasons of stress or uncertainty. Gratitude doesn’t erase the hard things—it shifts our perspective so we can see the whole picture more clearly.

Learning Peace, One Day at a Time

I’m still learning how to live in this world—how to do meaningful work, carry real burdens, and still protect the inner peace God promises.

It’s not easy.
But it’s possible.
And it starts with small, deliberate choices:

• To rest when needed.

• To pray often.

• To replace lies with truth.

• To be present.

• To give thanks.

• To trust the One who holds all things together—even me.

A Final Thought

If you’ve been carrying more than you realized…
If you’re just starting to feel like yourself again…
If you’re trying to find peace in a world that pulls at your soul—
You’re not alone.

God isn’t asking you to be perfect.
He’s inviting you to walk with Him.
To breathe.
To rest.
To trust.

And He promises that in the midst of it all—He will be your peace.

When Fear Creeps In: Learning to Anchor My Heart in God’s Peace
A reflection on fear, trust, and the comfort of Scripture

Fear.
Not just anxiety.
Not just stress.
Not just a passing moment of nervousness.
But fear—deep, gripping fear—has, at times, been the overriding emotion in my life.

Fear has shaped my decisions, my silence, my words, and my hesitations.
It has caused me to step into things I shouldn’t have—and to back away from things I was called to.
It’s insidious.
It creeps in slowly, slyly—until I suddenly realize it has overtaken me.

And the truth is, fear takes many forms.

Sometimes it’s the fear of death.
Sometimes it’s the fear of failure.
Sometimes it’s the fear of what others will think or how they’ll respond.
Sometimes it’s the fear of the unknown—and sometimes, it’s the fear of what I know all too well.

But ultimately, it’s not the source of fear that matters most.
It’s what we do with it.

Fear Is a Natural Response—Until It Isn’t

Fear, in its truest form, is a God-given emotion.
It’s the internal alarm system that sounds when danger—real or perceived—is near.
Fear can protect us. It’s a necessary survival mechanism.

But when fear becomes chronic, when it shifts from helpful caution to anxious obsession, when it starts whispering what ifs and worst-case scenarios—it becomes bondage.
And that’s not what God intends for us.

Fear is not meant to be a prison.

So what do we do when fear shows up and refuses to leave quietly?

When I’m Afraid, I Turn to Truth

There are several Scripture passages I return to again and again when fear starts to take over. These verses have anchored me in some of the darkest and most uncertain moments of my life—reminding me that God is present, that He is trustworthy, and that I am never alone.

1. I turn to God.

“Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7

When my husband was battling cancer in 2000, this verse became a lifeline. The little chorus “Cast all your cares upon Him” played on repeat in my heart. It reminded me that the same God who had cared for me before would continue to do so—faithfully, tenderly, completely.

2. I focus on the solution, not the storm.

In Matthew 14, Jesus calls Peter to step out of the boat and walk toward Him on the water. Peter obeys—but then he looks at the wind and becomes afraid. He starts to sink.

“Lord, save me!” he cries. And Jesus immediately reaches out and catches him.

The moment Peter shifted his focus from Jesus to the storm, fear took over. I try to remember that when my mind begins to spiral. The solution is always found by looking to Christ—not the chaos.

3. I stop borrowing trouble.

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things.” — Matthew 6:34

Fear loves to live in the future. It thrives on hypotheticals. But God invites me to stay in today. To deal with what’s in front of me and trust Him to handle tomorrow.

4. I fix my thoughts on God.

“You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” — Isaiah 26:3

When I notice my thoughts spiraling into fear, I gently bring them back to God. His character. His promises. His presence. Peace doesn’t come from having all the answers—it comes from knowing Who holds the outcome.

5. I pray. Really pray.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God…” — Philippians 4:6–7

There’s something powerful about bringing fear into the light of prayer. It’s not about saying all the right words—it’s about opening my heart and letting God meet me there. Peace follows—not always immediately, not always easily—but it comes.

6. I return to my refuge.

“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him I will trust.’” — Psalm 91:2

When fear presses in, I remind myself that I have a refuge. I have a hiding place. I have a God who defends, shelters, and strengthens me—no matter what the storm looks like.

Learning to Live Free

I wish I could say that I’ve mastered the art of living without fear. I haven’t.
But I am learning.
I’m learning to notice when fear starts to rise.
I’m learning to turn my heart back toward truth.
I’m learning that even when fear shows up, it doesn’t get to stay in charge.

God never asked me to be fearless.
He just asked me to trust Him more than the fear.

So today, if fear is creeping in—whispering its lies, tightening its grip—remember this:

You are not alone.
You are not powerless.
And you are not without peace.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?”
(Psalm 27:1)