By: Faith Ozenbaugh

I’ve always loved the ocean. Sitting on the sand with a light summer breeze and the sound of the crashing waves is so refreshing to my soul. There are few things I find more beautiful. Growing up, I loved to boogie board with my siblings. After beating the exhaustion of paddling, I’d glide with the salty waves until I bottomed out on the shore. Every so often, I wouldn’t time it right and I’d be knocked off my board, tumbling in the current. Pinned under the water, the sand swirled around me as I hit my head on the ocean floor. If I was lucky, I could surface just enough to get a quick breath before yet another wave sent me right back down again. Summertime joy quickly turned to fear. Years later, as I sat reflecting on my season struggling with anxiety in college, these moments in the ocean came back to my mind. Anxiety kind of felt the same–moments of being pinned down, panicked, feeling stuck. Life is sometimes like the ocean. It brings joy, and it brings pain, yet that doesn’t dictate its beauty. 

I started experiencing symptoms of anxiety three days before I was set to start college. I never saw it coming, and its first entrance was a full-blown panic attack. All drama aside, I really felt like I was dying for the two hours it persisted. After a quick trip to the ER and pinpointing that I was likely experiencing anxiety, I pretty much went into denial. I’m a pretty Type-A gal. People tend to think I have it all together (which is far from the truth). I guess I just assumed I wasn’t a typical candidate for anxiety, whatever that means. I was afraid of this label and what others would think of me. I was embarrassed. I had a false view of my own capability rooted deeply in pride.

Just two days after that incident, I moved to college. I was so excited for this season of life. But now leaving my home and my family had a whole new weight to it. It was 2020, which meant online classes for the foreseeable future. This also provided a lot of extra time in the dorm to sit with my thoughts—not great for someone who struggles with anxiety. Even so, my first semester was pretty smooth. I thought maybe my struggle with anxiety was just a few instances that were in the past, but unfortunately I was wrong. 

Over winter break, my anxious thoughts returned, and I started experiencing a slew of physical symptoms along with them— nausea, chest tightness, dry mouth, fatigue, loss of appetite and more. Gosh dang it, I thought. I felt so weak. Each day felt like a battle with my mind. 

As I battled, thankfully the people in my life didn’t push me to medication. Looking back, I’m really grateful for this. What I was experiencing was a normal response to past and present life experiences. I wasn’t abnormal or sick, just struggling for a time. I’m quite certain that if I had started medication then, I’d still be on it now. I learned that most psychiatric medications treat symptoms, not the root cause. They wouldn’t allow me to heal, they’d just numb me. When I went to see my doctor a few weeks later, he echoed the same sentiment. I praise God for that. Everyone’s journey is different, but I was thankful to be asked the question: what in your life may be causing these feelings and experiences? The answers to this were so key in directing my journey of change. 

Since medication wasn’t the route, I leaned into the avenues I knew would be strongest to help me take control of my thoughts. These were always the catalyst for my anxious feelings. This may sound so simple, and even cliche, but actually surrendering daily to Christ became as vital to life as my next meal. There is nothing that will make you run faster to the feet of Jesus than literally not being able to breathe which is arguably the most basic life function. There are few things more humbling than throwing up in your dorm room sink as one of your friends holds your hair back, telling you it’s going to be ok. 

I was frustrated, weak, confused, and defeated. In the coming months I can recall several times I’d be sitting on my bed, reading Psalms out loud, tears streaming down my face, chest tight, just trying to steady my breathing. It was in these moments that the reality of the Bible being “alive and active” settled in for me. The Word of God had immense power in these moments. It gave me the words I needed. It stirred the peace promised throughout God’s word. During this dark season, I developed a prayer team of friends and family, any of whom I knew I could text when I felt anxious. Oftentimes I wouldn’t even give details. I’d just say “hey, I’m struggling right now, can you pray for me?” They knew exactly what I meant. It was the most surreal feeling to sense the tension releasing in my chest and my breathing slowing as prayers were lifted up on my behalf in these heavy times. 

I was blessed to see a Christian counselor for a brief period of time through my university that semester. This was really beneficial for me. Having another perspective on the thought patterns I had developed and how to break free of them was helpful. She offered me insight, tools, and encouragement. I am grateful for this sister in Christ that God used as a part of my journey. 

It took just over a year before I felt like I finally had the reins on my anxiety. I could spot it creeping in, and employ my tools from the truths of God’s word and counseling to combat it. It took time, it took practice, it took humility, and it took bravery. It took a community of faith. I found that for me, my anxious thoughts are often linked to my physical health. If something in my body felt off, I was inclined to feel anxious. The thoughts would make me feel even worse. This was a spiral I knew I could easily fall into, and with God’s strength, learned to put a stop to when I sensed it coming on. This is something I still have to do from time to time.

My battle with anxiety is not over. The enemy knows it’s shaken me before, and I suspect he’ll try to use it again. Being inclined to worry is simply a part of this broken world. But acknowledging this has been my first step toward a life of freedom—the one God desires for us. All things are rooted in spiritual realities. We cannot separate anxiety from the reality of this broken world and our own sin. We also cannot separate it from Christ and what he’s done for us on the cross. Daily time in his word became my greatest asset in this season— greater than any medication, breathing technique, or counseling session. He is our greatest weapon and our greatest hope. He has promised us peace. Do you believe that? I learned to. I’ve never felt a more steadfast peace than after my struggle with anxiety. I can say that with full confidence and assurance. Anxiety truly showed me the depths of God’s grace and what it looks like to be one with Him. 

Everyone’s story is different and no one’s timeline of struggle is the same. But what is always the same is Jesus Christ and what he offers us. Do you know Jesus? If I didn’t, I would certainly still be pinned under the waves of anxiety, feeling helpless, scared, and defeated. I likely wouldn’t paddle out into the waves of life again for fear of being tossed and pinned down. I am not saying having anxiety means you don’t have enough faith, quite contrary actually. It is an invitation to discover the depths of the object of your faith and cling more tightly to Him. 

Anxiety is a part of my story, and one that I am truly grateful for. Sometimes God uses deep, hard, and scary things to mold us. He is always bringing beauty from what looks like ashes. Struggling through anxiety has changed my life for the better. It gave me a real and deep understanding of grace and took my walk with Christ to new heights. That made it worth more. I’d endure it all over again for the intimacy it developed in my relationship with Christ. This is more than even my next breath. 

No season is wasted. God is a master artist. The God who created the ocean in all its might and majesty also created you and holds you in the palm of his hand. He promises to never leave you or forsake you. He desires a life of joy for you. In the midst of struggle, I have tasted and seen this joy. I pray you can too as you walk your road hand-in-hand with Him.