
I once heard that you can’t hold faith and anxiety at the same time. I don’t remember where I heard it or who said it, but the idea stayed with me. The suggestion was simple: when your mind starts drifting into anxiety about the future or replaying stress from the past, shift your focus to gratitude. Write it down. Say it out loud. Anchor yourself in what’s good right now.
This past Sunday, I woke up feeling anxious for no clear reason. It wasn’t dramatic, and it wasn’t tied to anything specific. Just that quiet, unsettling feeling that shows up uninvited. Almost like my body was searching for something to worry about, as if calm itself felt unfamiliar.
Instead of fighting it, I grabbed my journal.
I decided to write down everything good that had happened that day, no matter how small. I started with the basics: I was able to take my son to the airport and make it home safely. I fell back asleep. I woke up rested. I went to church with my mom. I shared breakfast with my son. Moment by moment, I filled the page with ordinary things that, in reality, were anything but ordinary.
By the time I finished writing, I realized something surprising: the anxiety was gone.
The next morning, I felt that same uneasiness creeping in again. This time, instead of writing, I simply said out loud three things I was grateful for and three things I was looking forward to that day. Almost immediately, the tension lifted. Not because anything in my life had changed, but because my focus had.
Gratitude pulled me into the present moment. It didn’t allow me to live ahead of time, and it didn’t let me sit in the past. It forced me to stay right where my feet were, focused on what I could control, not what I couldn’t.
Living this way, with intention, has become the theme of my year. I’m learning that peace isn’t found by eliminating uncertainty, but by choosing presence. My hope is that this practice becomes so natural that it feels instinctive.
We live in a world designed to keep us anxious. Social media feeds us unrealistic versions of life. The news thrives on urgency and fear, constantly reminding us of everything going wrong that we have no power to fix. Bad things have always existed, but we weren’t meant to carry the weight of the entire world every single day.
I’m not claiming to have the cure for anxiety. I don’t. But I’ve learned that gratitude is a powerful interruption. It brings you back to now. And sometimes, that’s enough.
If this reflection helps even one person pause, breathe, and choose intention over anxiety, then it’s worth sharing.