Down in the valley

My friends up above me

Don’t understand why I struggle like I do...

It’s like that long Saturday

Between Your death and the rising day

When no one wrote a word

Wondered is this the end

But You were down there in the well

Saving those that fell

Bringing them to the mountain again

~Caedmon’s Call, “Valleys Fill First”

Photo by Jonatan Pie on Unsplash

Like the cry of the song, I have plenty of friends who don’t understand why I struggle like I do.


“It’s fall!  Let’s do all the things!” I hear all around me.  Announcement time at church gives me an anxiety attack that ratchets up another notch with every line item.

I don’t think the presence of heightened anxiety at this cultural moment necessarily signifies demonic influence.  I think for a normal human who reads the news and cares about human life, anxiety is an understandable and appropriate emotion right now.


This coming from a person who feels anxious every time I don’t feel anxious because I must be missing something, I know.  But of all times and circumstances, I’m confused that I feel so alone in my current anxiety.

The on-and-on pandemic is frustrating.  I don’t like it.  I remind myself (and my kids) morning after morning, God is in control.  He controlled history when Esther lived in the Persian Empire that almost destroyed the Jews.  He was in control when Job was covered with sores.  He’s in control of the 2020 pandemic.  He’s in control of our lives.

I don’t particularly want to be told why I should relax, whether it’s because the pandemic is overblown or because God’s got the whole world in His hands.

I’d rather be acknowledged as a human being who is functioning as best I can to cope with ever-changing plans and a barrage of conflicting information, but who is weary and frustrated and keyed up, who unexpectedly finds tears trickling into my mask when I drive alone across town or sit in church.  I like rules and take comfort in following the rules, and now nobody knows what the rules are, which is why I doggedly follow the arrows in the grocery aisle, because according to the sticker I know I’m doing something right.

I’m not allowed to go shopping or eat out—or maybe I am!—I’m not allowed to have parties—or maybe I am!—and I have to wear a mask—or maybe I don’t!  Dear ‘friends up above me,’ please just allow me to feel my feelings.


I feel anxious about the world.  Please don’t tell me, again, that I’m doing something wrong.

The Lord our God is always good,

His mercy is forever sure;

His truth at all times firmly stood,

And shall from age to age endure.

~Louis Bourgeois and William Kethe, “All People That on Earth Do Dwell”