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An Open Letter to the Anxious Christian

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By Christina Levandowski

Woman hands clasped in prayer — Piti Tangchawalit/Shutterstock.com

“Lord, help my unbelief.”

I pray this at least 500 times a day. Sometimes more. Living with the struggles of simply being a human in a broken world has pushed me to my limits. Some days, I question myself so deeply—as a mother, as a wife, as a Christian.

I feel like others around me are far surpassing me in their walks with Jesus.

I don’t have those sepia-toned Bible study pictures posted on my Instagram story every day.

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I certainly forgot to put the laundry in the dryer, and I probably snapped more than I should have today.

You see, I was an anxiety-prone child growing up. I was born an old soul, and therefore, an anxious soul as I learned to be cautious in love and in life with bad relationship experiences and health issues from my teen years.

I rebelled. I ran. I came back feeling the immense weight of guilt in a soul undone, just wanting to be good enough for the gates of Heaven.

“Lord, help my unbelief.”

Growing up in the church presented its own struggle. As I grappled with depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder to top off the health issues, I heard it all.

“If only she prayed more.”

“If only she truly repented of her hidden sins. Our God heals.”

“If only she believed more and showed true faith.”

My heart broke. Over and over again. I was spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, more confused by the second as to where my faith was and where God fell in this broken, hazy moment.

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“Lord, help my unbelief.”

They were right, you know.

If I was a perfect Christian, and had perfect, true, 100% authentic faith and was sinless . . . I wouldn’t need Jesus.

I wouldn’t need the grace we are all richly given through Him either.

I wouldn’t need to grow and learn who Jesus is as He walks beside me.

Now, as a young woman, wife, mother, and daughter, I know now just how valuable my struggles and my unbelief were at the time. Not for lack of trying of course, but for lack of seeing just how abounding and gracious our Father truly is.

“Lord, help my unbelief that You are here with me, at this moment.”

“Lord, help my unbelief that You are choosing in Your Sovereignty for me to deal with this illness right now. I may not be healed in this lifetime. Please help my unbelief that You walk beside me in this and every moment.”

“Lord, help my unbelief that you may intervene between life and death, sickness and health for my child.”

“Lord, help my unbelief that You will deliver us from this trial, and whether the answer is yes or no, you are GOOD. Help me, God. I don’t see it right now, but YOU do.”

Every day, I continue to pray the most powerful, humbling prayer my heart can form in those moments:

“Lord, help my unbelief.”

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Christina Levandowski

I am a newer author but have been writing since my youth. From as young as 6 or 7, I had been writing and submitting my short stories to magazines across the Nation. I am passionate about sharing my story as a young mama who has gone through tremendous hardship with chronic illness, postpartum depression, and anxiety.

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An Open Letter to the Anxious Christian

I feel like others around me are far surpassing me in their walks with Jesus.

RELATED: I Don’t Have an Old Bible…Yet

RELATED: Sometimes Church is Hard

I wouldn’t need the grace we are all richly given through Him either.

“Lord, help my unbelief.”

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Christina Levandowski

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