The first time I remember experiencing anxiety was in fourth grade. We were taking a state writing test, and I remember crying, feeling so overwhelmed. Writing has always been connected to anxiety for me.
Growing up, my family would go to Baylor Homecoming every year. I remember walking around campus, thinking, “When I get to college, this is going to be really rough. I’m going to have to write so much.” Every year, I’d get that feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My parents have constantly pointed us to the Lord, and I have two older brothers who genuinely lived out their faith as we grew up. For a while, I just rode the coattails of their faith and called it my own.
When COVID hit, it felt like the worst season of my life I’d experienced. I had no structure. There was so much idle time on my hands, and that’s when everything felt like it went downhill.
I became addicted to sin. I isolated myself. I felt numb and apathetic. I didn’t want anyone to know about my sin.
I would show up to church every week, but I’d go home with zero change. I ran to my sin in search of comfort, security, and isolation.
By junior year, my anxiety and addiction teamed up. My parents knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t really explain what was going on. I was full of lust, pride, and worried about what other people thought of me.
Then it was time to start applying for college.
The applications were hard, but the scholarship essays felt impossible. Writing was still what scared me the most.
I enrolled at a local community college, but even after signing up, My heart raced every time I thought about what was ahead.
One thing that stayed with me was Philippians 4:6-7, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
When I was 10, my mom faithfully wrote those verses on a note card and helped me memorize them, and I’ve never forgotten them.
God would be the one to get me through.
College was still hard. Anxiety didn’t suddenly disappear. But God provided people to help me. My aunt and my grandmother, who had been an English teacher, helped me with writing assignments. I can see now that God had been providing for me long before I even realized it.
Eventually, I transferred to Dallas Baptist University, where I saw faith lived out differently. I was going to Chapel every week to worship and pray. I lived with guys who loved God’s Word, talked openly about sin, prayed together, and challenged each other to follow Jesus. I started going to Rally, Watermark’s college ministry. For the first time, I experienced biblical community.
Faith became something I wanted to pursue for myself. God used community, his Word, and faithful people around me to show me how to walk with him.
I still deal with anxiety, and writing can still make me nervous. There are still moments when I care about what other people think.
But the verses my mom helped me memorize when I was a kid are still true. God helps, and he has been faithful every step of the way.