Why Prayer Alone Won’t End Anxiety: Do the Work to Heal - Entry by Jessica Wright

Growing up in the church, I remember feeling a deep sense of comfort whenever the pastor would say, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7). After experiencing that comfort, I’d often feel a sense of shame because I had no idea how to “pray away” my anxiety and stress.

I was born into chaos that wasn’t my fault. My dad was an alcoholic who was asked to get sober or leave when I was five. My brother, who had a disability, and I yearned for connection, but there was always a distance. My mom, at the time undiagnosed, struggled with mental illness. Later, as I studied psychology, I learned that trauma often leads to anxiety, and that we need coping skills to deal with it. But when I was younger, that original prayer I learned didn’t mention anything about coping. It didn’t explain what to do when anxiety hits.

Because of my early years and the anxiety I carried, I now have the privilege of helping clients navigate their own struggles with anxiety and panic attacks in my private practice as a licensed clinical social worker.

I vividly remember the first time I experienced an anxiety attack. I was in my second year of graduate school, juggling a full-time job, full-time college coursework, and enduring significant family and financial stress. On one hand, my life was full of excitement and new learning, but on the other, I had so much homework that it was hard to breathe. To clear my head, I’d run two miles every day. At the same time, my first marriage, which we tried for five years to make work, was ending. My heart, which was already heavy, felt like it was sinking deeper into anxiety.

I remember driving home one day when I felt a tightness in my chest. Strangely, I don’t remember what I was thinking or feeling at the time. All I remember is that my hands clenched around the wheel, and I thought I was having a heart attack. I was 25—surely I was too young for that, right? At that time, I’d been working in the helping profession for nearly five years, educating clients on panic attacks, but now I was experiencing one myself. I was stuck in traffic, my hands frozen, unable to grip the wheel properly, and I knew that if I kept driving, I’d crash and either get a ticket or hurt someone.

Out of ideas, I called my soon-to-be ex-husband, crying and telling him I didn’t know what to do—I couldn’t breathe and thought I was either having a panic attack or a heart attack. His calm voice, advising me to pull over and focus on breathing, reminded me that I was okay. After 10 minutes of deep breathing into a bag, my body returned to normal, and I was able to drive home.

You’re probably rolling your eyes, thinking, “Not another panic attack or heart attack story,” right? But this happened to me. I’m the helper! I’m the therapist, the one who’s supposed to have it together. Shouldn’t I know how to deal with anxiety? Isn’t my role to teach others how to cope? What about that passage in Philippians? Shouldn’t God have protected me from feeling like I was about to die at that moment?

The truth I’ve come to understand is that people are people, and the world is broken. Even the helpers need help. God places helpers in the world and calls us to reach out, to ask for help when we need it. We can pray, but we also need to take action. I no longer agree with pastors who simply say that prayer will solve all our problems. Life is tough. Sometimes, things don’t make sense, and we experience pain—the kind of pain that feels unbearable.

So, I challenge you: Be there for others, even when they don’t deserve it, even when you’re unsure of the right words. Teach others to walk through their pain, and just be present. I want to be there for people, so God can use me to help them find their purpose, their light, and their health. I want to help them realize that they can make it through.