Anxiety is a funny thing. I went through life up until I was about thirty-seven with little to no anxiety. I was pretty chill. Now I did have an anger problem early on but some confession and acknowledgment of the problem took care of it. You can only have an anger problem as long as you do not admit you have one and as long as you never admit it hurts you and the others around you.
Anxiety is a different beast. As I write this, by all accounts the world is beginning the first troubling shakes of real and dangerous turbulence. There is not a day that goes by without at least the fleeting thought that maybe my kids will fight in a war, maybe a civil war.
Pressures from work and growing responsibility and leadership have left me with a base-level feeling in my gut. Like a rollercoaster drop that never stops and you never get the relief and thrill of the speed dipping you back to the heights. It is one constant freefall.
So what is the answer? My circumstances are not going to change anytime soon. If anything with four teenagers and one that will soon be a teenager the pressure is mounting and the cost of failure only goes up. What is the answer?
The only thing I have found that answers the base level hum of worry that is anxiety is hope. Check out these definitions.
Anxiety – Apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness usually over an impending or anticipated ill
Hope – To cherish a desire with anticipation to want something to happen or be true.
This is the sticky wicket. Hope can not be unfounded or untrue. The hope we live for has to be as sure as the rising sun, as steady as the tides, and as consistent as the ticking of the clock. I have found my hope in God. An immutable being who defines all things good, all things love and saves me from my own crushing depravity.