“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”
I cannot tell you how many times I read 1 Peter 5:7 last fall when I was going through one of the toughest seasons of my life. However, no matter how many times I read that scripture, it never penetrated my heart. I was numb. I was good at “making it” and being “fine.” Truthfully, I was struggling but could never bring myself to admit it. Not to anyone. Not to God.
Last summer my dad passed away. It came out of nowhere and completely rocked my life and my family’s lives. I relied heavily on my faith to carry me through those initial moments of grief. I will say that God provided me with much comfort. It was not until the time came to move on with life that the pain hurt the most. The times where I felt like I had forgotten about my dad because he did not enter my thoughts that day, or when I moved for the first time without his help, even the time when my daughter started a new school and we could only tell Grandma because Popo had gone to heaven.
In those moments, I isolated myself. I lived everyday life in the shell of my body because inside I was buried with hurt, regret, and guilt. Those feelings consumed me. I was lost in mourning.
The deeper I was buried, the more distance came between me and God.
For months, I would get the kids ready to take Ari to school, thoroughly enjoying praise and worship in the car. We would arrive at her school, say our loving goodbyes, and once the car door closed I would be sobbing before I even pulled away from the curb. I would cry all the way home only to stop when I entered the house with my son because it was time to get back into “mommy mode.” That was my life every morning for at least three months.
No one knew. I could not admit it. Not even to God.
My silence was crippling. It began to affect more areas of my life. I would be moody, irritable, have an emotional outburst. My tears were no longer limited to the morning car ride but would last well after I returned home with my then one-year-old rubbing my back to make sure Mommy was ok.
One day, I could not take it anymore.
In my head, I could hear a voice telling me to pray, over and over again. To speak out loud the words that I desperately needed to say. Through tears, I simply stated, “Lord, please help me.”
Just like that, the floodgates opened. I cried out in prayer to the Lord. It is not like He did not know what I was going through. Speaking it was for me, not for Him.
When you confess with your mouth, you are casting your anxiety onto Him. You are emptying yourself, your pain, worry, hopelessness, at His feet. In exchange, God can fill you with love, forgiveness, healing, life! My pain turned to praise because, in the midst of it all, I could feel the weight being lifted off of me. I no longer felt 6 feet under. I could breathe again.
In an instant, God healed me.
Please understand, the enemy would love for you to be silent. The enemy works best when he gets you isolated and consumed with negative thoughts. Whatever you are fighting against: guilt, shame, fear, personal hurt, hopelessness. Whether you are struggling financially, with your kids, with your spouse, or with work and school.
You cannot face it alone. You have to admit it. Speak it. Pray!
Because when the devil silences your voice, he is stealing your power. Your prayers are your direct connection to the Lord. The most powerful weapon in your arsenal to fight against spiritual warfare. Do not struggle in silence. James 5:16 says,
“The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.”
God wants to hear from you. He wants to love you. He wants to save you.
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Nichelle Kline is a Christian author and blogger in Birmingham, Alabama, where she resides with her family. Nichelle released her first children’s book this summer and hopes that all children encounter the love of Jesus. She loves to laugh, travel, and most of all, spend time with her family.
You can follow Nichelle on Instagram.