All Other Ground is Sinking Sand

Sometimes I get stuck.

Stuck inside my head.

Surrounded by anxiety. 

Overwhelmed by earthly things.

I’ve noticed that when my focus shifts to things of this world, I lose sight of the Kingdom of Heaven. Not only is this a dangerous slippery slope, but it makes everything I’m going through feel heavier than it needs to be.

I should never be in a headspace that feels so far from God that I convince myself I can carry all the weight alone. We don’t need to bear the load that’s already been lifted. We don’t need to hold so tightly to the outcomes we’re told to let go. The solutions to our earthly problems aren’t dictated by what we do or don’t do on our own. They’re determined by how often we give them to God in prayer and how quickly we can surrender them.

Though there may be circumstances that require action on our part, without positioning prayer as a priority, our situations appear unclear, our struggles feel more substantial, and our worries become overwhelming.

It can be challenging to resist the tides that pull us deeper into the world’s ways of thinking, but refocusing and reframing our minds toward God is the only way–

To shed light on the darkness.

To overcome our overthinking.

And unlock the discernment needed to make the right decisions.

However, we tend to go to Google first instead of opening our Bibles.

We’ll talk to our friends and family for hours about what’s going on in our lives (which isn’t bad), but then we’ll only give God a few minutes, if that.

We will run after a thousand tomorrows in hopes of perfecting our futures instead of living in each today– rejoicing in the freedom that comes from seeking God’s sovereignty above all else. The reign and rule that we’ve granted ourselves isn’t the position God bestowed upon us. When our problems, anxieties, or expectations for certain outcomes take the throne of our lives, we inadvertently remove God from His rightful place as the King of our hearts. This transfer of power isn’t to our benefit.

We make it harder than it needs to be when we prematurely attempt to solve tomorrow’s problems. Because when you strip it all back—between the strategic calculations we try to make and our clenched fists of control—we are simply meant to be God’s children.

Children who need their Father.

I often fall into the trap of thinking that if I don’t have it all figured out right now, I never will. But faith isn’t forged when we live life the way we think we should. It’s formed when we follow Christ, even when we face the fears that try to force us back into taking over. Although our independence is endangered when we deny our instinctive nature to do everything ourselves, a real dependence on God fortifies us beyond what we ever thought we were capable of.

Trust isn’t a risk; it’s the reward. God promises to carry us when we can no longer carry ourselves.

Matthew 6:33 reads, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

How often do we worry about things that are short-lived? How often do we worry about things that are vain? How often do we worry about things that are materialistic?

Yesterday, I worried about whether I’d ever get married. Today, I worry about whether I make enough money to retire comfortably in 35-40 years. And I suppose tomorrow, I’ll worry about whether I’ll have enough time to achieve all the goals and dreams I set for myself.

Rinse and repeat.

I get that this is the human experience, and there’s no way to completely turn off the pressure valves that flood our lives with what-ifs, worries, and fears. But there has to be a better way than just letting our thoughts be carried down the currents of negativity. 

God is that better way.

Except all this, “Letting go and letting God” is so much easier said than done. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I fall in and out of getting this right all the time. Some weeks, I’m able to give everything to God easily, and then other weeks, I get into situations where I’m so overwhelmed that I forget to lay it all down. I don’t think a relationship with God is about mastering our problems as they come or hitting all the daily “perfect Christian” metrics. Because if that’s what it was all about, I wouldn’t be here today writing about how God is still working in my life and shaping me into a more resilient person every time I forget.

A relationship with God looks like running back to Him again and again and again.
A relationship with God says, “I need you, Lord, more than I need this thing or this situation to work out or this prayer to be answered.”
A relationship with God doesn’t solve everything instantly, but it places our feet on solid ground so that we remain steadfast.

I wish it weren’t so easy to let myself be swept into unproductive thoughts and unrelenting rabbit holes. Declaring a state of emergency does me no good when I haven’t yet talked to God about the situation. In Luke 12:25, Jesus tells His disciples, “And which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?”

Worrying feels a lot like quicksand. Once you dwell on one thing, you’ll continue to ruminate on the next, and then, before you know it, you’re deep inside the muck and mire. This sinking sand I find myself trying to stand on provides me with no defense against the enemy. That’s why I can’t let the recesses of these lies define the core of who I am. I can’t let worrying walk off with the deed to all my time. I have the right to evict the fear-based thoughts living rent-free inside my head.

Thankfully, the depth of God’s love for us doesn’t stop when we reach the trenches; it enters to pull us out, even if those trenches only exist in our minds.

Instead of entertaining worry, I have to remind myself what dwelling with the Lord can do–
Who His presence can protect me from.
What His steadiness can withstand.
How His dependability can direct me.

In Psalm 94:19, “When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” When our minds are set above, we don’t worry about the small, earthly things. When we let God take over, our anxious ways are exposed to the light and replaced by His sustaining joy.