The Fog of Anxiety: When Peace Feels Out of Reach

There’s a particular kind of fog that doesn’t roll in from the mountains or rise up from the riverbed. It settles silently over the soul—unseen by others, but suffocating just the same. It’s the fog of anxiety.

Unlike the physical fog I once experienced in the Buffalo Forest, where I could name the danger—darkness, coyotes, disorientation—the fog of anxiety is harder to name and even harder to navigate. It wraps itself around your chest, tightens your breath, and whispers lies in your ear. You’re not safe. You’re not enough. You’ll never get through this.

I’ve known this fog intimately.

It’s hit me in moments that should have felt joyful. It’s followed me into meetings, into motherhood, into ministry. It’s crept into quiet nights when the world is asleep but my mind won’t rest. Anxiety doesn’t need a reason. It just arrives. And suddenly, peace feels a thousand miles away.

When Your Mind Is the Storm

Sometimes we think anxiety is only about what’s happening around us. But more often, it’s what’s happening within us. It’s the unspoken fears, the weight of expectations, the racing “what ifs.” It’s the urge to control what we can’t and the shame that follows when we feel we should be “stronger by now.”

But here’s the truth I’ve learned through tear-streaked prayers and sleepless nights:

Anxiety doesn’t make you faithless. It makes you human.

Jesus didn’t rebuke the disciples for their fear in the storm—He met them in it. And He still meets us today.

Leaning into God, Even in the Fog

The fog of anxiety can make us question everything. But it can also become the place where we discover the nearness of God in a new way. When our own strength runs out, we finally make room for His.

Psalm 94:19 says, “When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”

Notice: it doesn’t say anxiety disappeared overnight. It says God met me in it.

His consolation is not always the absence of fear—it’s His presence in the midst of it.

And often, like in the forest that night, clarity doesn’t come all at once. It comes one step at a time. Peace comes slowly, like mist lifting at sunrise.

You’re Not Alone

If you're walking through a season of anxiety right now, I want you to know this: You are not broken. You are not less spiritual. You are not failing.

You are being held—even if you can’t feel it yet.

The fog is not your forever. It’s just part of your journey.

Keep breathing. Keep praying. Keep taking the next step. You don’t need to see the full path. You just need to trust the One who walks with you.

Devotional Prayer

Jesus,
I confess the weight of anxiety has been heavy. My thoughts spin, my chest tightens, and I feel like I’m losing my grip. Help me remember that I don’t need to have it all together to come to You. You are not repelled by my fear—you draw near to it. Calm the storm inside me, even if the waves outside still rage. Remind me that Your love is not based on my performance, but on Your presence. I give You my anxious heart, and I ask for just enough peace to take the next step.
Amen.

Journaling Prompt

“What is the fog of anxiety telling me right now—and what does God’s Word say instead?”

Make two columns. In the first, write down the anxious thoughts you’re battling. In the second, write a truth from Scripture to counter each one. Let God’s promises be the light that begins to cut through the fog.