I had two jobs, two kids (one of which was a newborn), and a head full of business ideas. I poured every spare second into something new.
No plan. Just “hustle”.
Eventually, the pressure broke through and I experienced a panic attack for the first time.
Out of nowhere, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I was certain I was having a heart attack.
I used to think anxiety happened to people who had mental health issues. But I learned that this is what happens when you try to carry too much alone.
At first, I resisted it. I tried to shake it off, but it only made it worse.
Then I came across something that stuck with me:
You only beat anxiety when you stop fighting it.
So I stopped fighting and started noticing it instead.
When it showed up, I didn’t try to fix it. I tried my best to not label it as good or bad. I just noticed it.
As hard as it was, I just let the discomfort be there without trying to fix it.
Like watching a wave come in, then go back out.
What I learned is that peace doesn’t come from avoiding anxiety. It comes from letting go of the need to control it.
A certain amount of stress is part of life. Anxiety comes with caring deeply. There’s no version of life on this side of eternity where those things disappear.
Fear can’t take anything from you – it can only tell you stories and receive what it convinces you to hand over.
And most of the time, we give it more than we realize.
Fear shows up any time you’re close to something meaningful. That’s not a flaw, that’s often confirmation.
But somewhere along the way, we started treating fear like a signal to stop, instead of a sign along the way.
There’s a moment in Moses’ story where God tells him to lead his people out of slavery. Moses is 80, unsure of himself, and afraid of public speaking. He tells God all the reasons he can’t do it—his past, his weakness, his fear.
God doesn’t reassure him with comfort or confidence. He just basically says, “Go, I’ll be with you.”
That’s it. No motivational speech, just a promise that he’ll be present.
The fear didn’t leave, but Moses stopped letting it convince him to give it control.
And that’s the shift—fear doesn’t have to go away for you to move forward, you just have to stop giving it the authority to decide what you do.
Here’s what I’ve noticed:
Fear is real – it’s very real. But it’s not a flaw. It’s part of being human.
Fear grows when we give it energy—when we obsess, avoid, or try to outsmart it.
But you don’t have to argue with fear to move forward, you just have to see it for what it is and keep going.
Fear feeds on control. The more you try to manage every outcome, the louder it gets.
Peace doesn’t come from having a plan, it comes when you decide that it’s okay if you don’t have one.
Our culture says to conquer fear by mastering it. But what if you don’t need to master it? What if you just need to stop handing it the wheel?
Fear will ask for what matters to you. But you don’t have to hand it over.
This was the old familiar feeling of a panic attack.
It was 2:30 am, and I woke up to use the bathroom. I had just had a dream that I can’t remember, but I do remember I woke up with a slight pit in my stomach.
It was fear that something was coming. Maybe it was sickness, maybe it was just the expectation of something bad.
It’s wild how expectations can create realities.
I laid back down and I could feel the thoughts coming.
The internal dialog went something like this:
“There’s a pit in my stomach. Am I getting sick?”
“I’m not getting sick.”
“But what if…”
“I’m not. Go to sleep.”
“If I am getting sick, this is the beginning of hours of misery. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“That’s right. If it’s coming, it’s coming. Nothing I can do about it.”
“Now my nose is stopped up. It’s hard to breathe. I can’t get a full breath…”
“Calm down. You’re fine.”
“Oh no, I really can’t get a full breath…”
“This is temporary. Sit with it. Ride it out. It’s just a wave of anxiety. It can’t do anything to you.”
“I feel like I’m going crazy.”
[at this point I feel the wave of butterflies start in the middle of my stomach and shoot out to my entire body]
“Here it is. The panic is coming…”
“It can’t do a thing to me. Thank you Lord for being right here.”
[I’m laying on my stomach and I feel God say to turn over and lay flat on my back with my arms out and my legs fully extended.]
“I give everyone and everything to you, Lord.”
[I start box breathing for a minute, then because my breaths are rapid, it freaks me out more that I can only breath for 2 seconds in and 2 seconds out. So I stop box breathing and keep releasing control to God.]
“I give it all to you, Lord. You’re in control. My body and my life is in your hands, not my own. Let what comes, come.”
I laid there for a few minutes facing the panic without trying to control it. Just noticing it and sitting with it.
At that point I felt what I can only describe as a calm discomfort.
The next thing I remember is waking up at 5:30 am.
Panic came and the panic went. And just like every other time, I was fine. It didn’t do anything to me.
If I had been sick, running with spiraling thoughts wouldn’t have helped a thing.
You’re not crazy, you’re not alone, and this will pass.
I’ve done this enough to know that this is a truth you can count on:
“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty …
You will not fear the terror of night … nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness …
A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes…” (Psalm 91:1, 5-8)