Anxiety isn’t quiet. It shakes the chest, steals the breath, and convinces you that drowning is your only future. I know the choke of it. Hands trembling. Thoughts spiraling. Heart pounding like it’s trying to escape its cage. Anxiety doesn’t whisper it screams. But the Word cuts through: “Peace, be still.” (Mark 4:39) The storm obeyed Him then, and it still does now. Anxiety can rattle bones, but it cannot overrule His voice. Its chaos bends to His command. Its waves collapse at His feet. So I remember, even as the storm rages in me: His peace is not fragile. It silences what I cannot. Anxiety does not define me. Christ does.
Reflection Question: When anxiety screams, whose voice are you listening to—the storm’s, or the One who commands it to be still?
Storms pound in your chest.
Yet His whisper stills the waves.
Peace speaks over fear.
In Luminance 