When Praying Doesn’t Bring Peace to Your Anxious Heart

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Last month I found myself battling anxiety. Day camp for my kids, ages three and five, was days away. Set in a woodsy landscape, they would spend their days pressing flowers, splashing in a stream, stacking rocks, and painting pictures. 

I chose this camp because of how it immerses children in nature. I fretted because of how it immerses children in nature. 

A particular picture kept coming to mind—one of muddy water, an unseen slithering enemy, and a bite that would change everything. 

I turned my mind to other musings. 

I prayed God would keep them safe.

I considered all that the kids would learn and treasure about this experience. 

The anxiety still remained, lurking in the backwaters of my thoughts. Although I didn’t look at it directly, I knew it was there. 

Two nights before camp began, I lay in bed praying. Praying, praying, praying. 

“Lord, keep them safe.”

The more I prayed, the more I seemed to worry. Adrenaline kept me awake. I don’t remember how I eventually fell asleep that night, but it wasn’t with a heart at peace.

The next morning, coffee in hand, I sat down with my Bible, and the words of Psalm 94:19 leaped out like they’d been waiting for me all night.

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”

I read it again. The low-grade panic began to melt away. I read it again. The light of God’s truth chased away the unwanted, scaly visitor prowling through my thoughts. Peace broke like the morning sun, spreading its gentle rays over the landscape of my soul.

Links to read more about biblical peace: Remembering the Reality of God’s Powerful Peace and Do You Want Lasting Peace? Start Here

Resting in Truth

In Luke 18, Jesus tells us the parable of the persistent widow and the unjust judge. She comes to him presenting the same request for justice again and again. Out of annoyance, he finally grants the request. 

Jesus concludes the parable by saying, “will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?” (Luke 18:7)

He is contrasting the character of God against the judge. The point of the parable is not to tell us that God is unjust or moved by annoyance but often I’m guilty of thinking of him in those terms.

A wall of stern splendor. 

An immovable, holy mountain. 

A king radiant in glory but hard as the golden scepter he holds in his hand.

When I prayed for my kids, I prayed in desperation with an attitude that words of prayer would do the work and accomplish the outcome I wanted.

I trusted the prayer instead of the hearer of my prayer, and in terms of finding peace, it got me nowhere. 

Prayer is a two-way conversation between us and the Father, but instead of taking a breath in my stream of requests to go to his Word and hear from him, I expected to find comfort in knowing he heard me.

He was ready and waiting to give me freedom from my anxiety. He penned the words I needed centuries ago. I just needed to open my Bible to see them.

This Psalm shattered my partially wrong notions of my Father. He is splendid and holy and radiant, to be sure, but he is also one who gives consolation—one who is moved to compassion by the suffering of you and me. 

Prayer is a two-way conversation between us and the Father, but instead of taking a breath in my stream of requests to go to his Word and hear from him, I expected to find comfort in knowing he heard me. #anxiety #peace #prayer Share on X

The God of All Comfort

I’m currently working through a study of 2 Corinthians with women in my church. On day two, I read these words:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

And then Kelly Minter hits me with this: “If we find ourselves in a situation where we are inconsolable, unable to be comforted or encouraged, there is a problem. Receiving comfort requires humility and vulnerability before the Lord, open hands that say we don’t know it all or have it all and need our Savior.”

Pieces began clicking into place. When I prayed for the safety of my kids, I wasn’t allowing myself to be comforted.

When we go to God with our requests, are we going with an expectation to receive comfort? And what does that posture look like?

You’re probably familiar with the words in 1 Peter 5:7 that tell you to “cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” But it wasn’t until recently I noticed the verse that comes before it: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you” (1 Peter 5:6).

When we come with a humble heart to cast our anxieties, we’re giving up control to the one who is in control. A humble heart says, “You are God, and I am not. I trust you and give up the control I never had in the first place.” 

With Thanksgiving

I hesitated to title this post “When Praying Doesn’t Bring Peace” because Philippians 4:6-7 actually tells us the opposite:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Pray and then receive peace, right?

I have a feeling I’m not the only one who has tried the formula and wondered why the promised peace wasn’t showing up.

I found my answer in the unassuming phrase in verse 6: “with thanksgiving.”

When we pray with thanksgiving we’re acknowledging several things:

1. His availability—God hears us when we pray
2. His actions—We can trust God’s intentions and plan
3. His character—God is loving and compassionate

Praying with thanksgiving means I’ve left my burden in the throne room and then offered my gratitude for allowing the burden to be shifted from my shoulders to his. It means I’m allowing myself to be comforted. 

When I left out the crucial step of thanksgiving, it was as if I carried my concern to God but refused to put it down. 

I held on to my worry asking him to notice it again and again. He did. But he was asking me to set it down and thank him for being mighty enough to carry it.

I held on to my worry asking him to notice it again and again. He did. But he was asking me to set it down and thank him for being mighty enough to carry it. #withthanksgiving #anxiety #peace #prayer Share on X

Seeking Outside Help

As a final note, I feel compelled to include encouragement to those who need to seek help for addressing anxiety. 

I don’t want to perpetuate a belief that mental health problems are due to a lack of faith, too little prayer, or some spiritual sickness. 

Sometimes anxiety requires further help. Sometimes our answer to prayer is found in a trusted friend, a counselor, or a medication. 

God’s desire is for us to not live in a state of constant worry.

A New Understanding

Sometimes, as in my case, we don’t take the time to see the full scope of what Scripture has to say about a particular topic such as anxiety. 

When I came to understand God to be the God of compassion and comfort, when I realized I approached him without a willingness to be consoled, and when I saw my error of withholding gratitude as I presented my concerns—that’s when I began to see my anxiety melt away.

Does that mean I’ll never struggle with it again? No, probably not. But my perspective has shifted, and with that comes a greater trust and confidence in our mighty, compassionate God. And I hope that, perhaps, you’ve learned something too.

Let’s pray.

Father God,

I come to you humbly, knowing you are God Almighty and sovereign over everything. I come to you with my worry. I am not in control of this situation, but You are Lord. I hand over these worries. I lay them down, not because I’m following a formula, but because I trust you. Thank you for carrying my concerns. Thank you that you are compassionate, and you see me with love and tenderness. Thank you for your promised consolation and peace. I stand on your promises and accept the comfort you give.

In Jesus’s name,
Amen.

What have you learned in your life about dealing with worry? I’d love to hear about your stories, lessons, or questions in the comments!