On Mourning, Anxiety & Control

Amanda Jade Cox

I find that some of my favorite times with God have left my coffee cold with a brewed tear dangling down its side. To have forgotten about coffee and be swept up in Christ.

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I have been mourning my life. Mourning its difficulties, hiding like a hermit under its pressures. A few nights ago a chai candle burned beside me as I heard deep breaths of a husband stretching out the tightness of bones broken. Life still feels like too much most days. Managing my emotions while feeling the push and shove of life leaves me weary.

But I’m only twenty-five. I still have a long way to go. And I don’t want to spend my life holding a flame to anxiety but never actually burning it out. I want to enjoy life again — even when I start a day wondering where I’ll gather the strength.

My experience with strength recently reminds me of apple picking near the end of the season. They’re so firm and juicy off the branch. I smile big when I have found an apple of strength in what feels like Carter’s Mountain in late fall.

How hard life can be, how quickly it can get a soul down. How things out of my control pop up and make me think I can’t get through life well. That’s another thing, control. It needs to die here. I need to not carry it with me any further.

It’s probably true to say we’ve all been encouraged a lot about seasons and how they change. How Jesus is with you through every single one and they each have their time.

But here is what I’m learning about seasons — Jesus isn’t solely interested in my finishing one. The only thing that’s finished is his redeeming work on the cross. Everything else in life is an ongoing series of events. I am not looking to “finish” this season. It is not pretty and I end up crying more times than I’d like to admit, but I’m not looking to get the heck out of here. I am looking to walk through it with Jesus, who brings refreshing oils of joy to tend to sores of decaying hope.

He’s not looking to finish off these feelings I’m feeling to get me into a more pleasant season. He’s going through this beside me. I really believe that, and I want you to believe it to.

Jesus is a gentle heart on a long journey. His heart is inclined toward yours, friend. He is kind and wants you to know that. Your personal value and a season’s value has never come from how fast you have gotten through feelings of disrupted hope or overcome loneliness, anxiety, or the question of God’s faithfulness. No, He says it all has value. No matter how long it takes.

I was talking with God as He set the sun a few weeks back at Carolina Beach. He was telling me some really lovely things that I want to end this blog post sharing with you:

It is good to gain wisdom, but it is not the point of life. It’s nice to know where your journey is leading you, but it’s not the deciding factor on the path. A life laying in Jesus’ shade of kindness as he shares the details of what he loves about you so much sounds a lot more like what he enjoys. He wants good things for you but life won’t always resemble that. We are often afraid but he is not afraid of that. God likes when we feel pretty and when we feel most like ourselves.

God loves us. He really loves us. And that love is the only thing waking us up into living a life that we don’t look back on one day and mourn. He’s not asking us to do anything to prove that we love him. He’s not impatiently wishing we would get over these feelings were feeling and get on with life. Everything we are experiencing in life is a footnote, and I’ll tell you this — He is writing the most stunning song.

x o .

Amanda Jade Cox

Written by

adventure seeking. RVA dwellin’. doughnut loving. wife. mama to Ruby.

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