December 9, 2023
On Saturday, my mom texted our family letting us know about some severe weather that was moving into the area that evening. Jackson and I turned on the weather channel to get an idea of what was going on. The storms were still a little ways out, so there was plenty of time for weakening or a change of direction.
I remembered growing up watching a big line of storms very similar to Saturday’s move across our state. Typically, all the storms in the line are strong, but there are one or two spots that are concerning and become where the meteorologists linger in their coverage. The longer we had the TV on, the more I realized that concerning spot was headed right towards my hometown. They started naming roads I used to drive down, and I could see my parent’s neighborhood on the TV screen.
My family is okay, but waking up Sunday morning and seeing the damage on the news of streets I grew up riding down was surreal.
Psalm 91
As we were watching the weather on Saturday, I was telling my husband about a memory I had surrounding storms growing up. There was a big Bible on our TV stand, and when there would be severe weather, I would pull that Bible off the shelf and read Psalm 91. It declares that the Lord is our shelter and our stronghold. So naturally, that is what I pulled out to read as I prayed for the protection of my family and my hometown.
I say this about the Lord, my shelter and my stronghold,
my God in whom I trust—
He will certainly rescue you from the snare of the hunter
and from the destructive plague.
He will shelter you with his wings;
you will find safety under his wings.
Befriending My Anxiety
Jackson and I have recently been talking about where we would like to live - praying and seeking the next step for our family. Personally, I believe Jackson was made to live at the beach. And I would not mind the extra days of sunshine and warm weather.
However, my anxiety has also found a million things to worry about if we lived at the beach - hurricanes, sharks, jobs, skin cancer, costs - the list goes on and on.
But when I think about it, there are always going to be things you can worry about, always going to be reasons to not do something. Nashville has tornadoes. The mountains have bears. Indiana has ice and snow.
My anxiety screams loud and clear whenever I think of doing anything outside of my current comfort zone and level of familiarity. But recently, I have learned to befriend my anxiety because it truly has good intentions. It wants to keep me safe, and it has so many times in the past. But I have to give it boundaries. When it finds a reason to not do anything and everything, then it’s a problem.
Weather as a Teacher
I was listening to a podcast yesterday, and the pastor shared an analogy that really resonated with the thoughts I had been having surrounding anxiety.
He said if you take your kids to the Grand Canyon, you want them to have some level of fear and respect for the Grand Canyon because that keeps them safe. However, you don’t want them to be so anxious and afraid that they don’t even want to go, and they miss the beauty and the joy of the experience.
The same is true in so many other aspects of our lives, and nature is a great example. Nature is something we cannot control, and we fully recognize we cannot control it. Do we still take precautions when bad weather comes our way? Of course! They knew the storms were coming on Saturday, and people were doing everything they could to stay safe.
But we realize that no matter how prepared we are, we still have no control over the outcome.
Yet so many other things are much more sneaky. My health is ultimately out of my control, but there are so many things I can do that give me the illusion that I am in control. I can eat healthy and exercise, and yes, God does call us to be good stewards of our bodies. But I have to recognize that even still, my health is not in my control.
The same goes for our jobs, our families, our homes, our plans.
It almost seems like the more we know, the more anxious we are. Knowing gives us the illusion of control without any of the actual power.
Nature will always remind us how not in control we are. The tornado in my hometown this week served as a lesson for me: lean into humility and entrust God with the things I know I cannot control and the things I tend to convince myself I can.
Thank you for reading! As always, I would so appreciate if you would share my newsletter with someone you know who you think would enjoy it as well!
Take care,
Caroline