Tag: anxiety

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10 Bible Verses for Anxious Moms (That Actually Help)

Personal Note from One Mama to Another

I’m watching my darling daughter-in-law juggle two babies under two, and I’m taken right back. I remember those days of complete surrender—when a quiet time, a shower, and maybe a quick workout (AKA a brisk walk with the stroller) defined self-care and sanity. In those early years, there was a fine line between letting go of anxiety and letting in the moments that took my breath away: tiny arms wrapped around my neck, first words and giggles, the magic of seeing the world through brand-new eyes. Was I terrified a seagull might eat my itty-bitty newborn when we walked on the pier? Yes-but I pushed through the new mommy phase and gained confidence one sippy cup at a time.

But then life got busier—school drop-offs, sports, scraped knees, and building a life that felt both full and complete. And then, the bottom fell out. I became a single mom. And anxiety? It stopped being an occasional visitor and became a constant companion. When you’re carrying the financial weight, the emotional load, and the spiritual burden alone—it’s no longer just stress. It’s survival.

During that season, quiet time wasn’t a sweet addition to my day—it was my oxygen. I couldn’t breathe without God’s presence. I still can’t.

Motherhood will test you in ways you never imagined. It will grow you, stretch you, and sanctify you. These verses below are the ones I’ve clung to in the early years, the single-parent years, and now—as I raise my youngest teen daughter and watch my children become parents themselves.

If you’re reading this while wiping tears or eating leftover macaroni off your toddler’s plate and calling it lunch—these verses are for you, too.

You’re Not Alone: What the Research Says

If you’ve ever wondered, “Is it just me?”—the answer is a compassionate no.

  • The American Psychological Association found that 46% of moms report high levels of stress, especially those with children under 18.
  • A 2023 study in The Journal of Affective Disorders revealed that moms are especially vulnerable to anxiety and depression due to role overload, sleep deprivation, and cultural expectations.
  • And here’s the hope: A 2019 study in Psychology of Religion and Spirituality found that spiritual practices—like prayer, scripture meditation, and trusting in God—are linked to reduced anxiety and greater emotional resilience.
  • Neuroscientist Dr. Andrew Newberg even found that consistent spiritual habits can physically change the brain to help you stay calmer and more emotionally grounded over time.

In other words, your quiet time isn’t just a spiritual discipline—it’s a healing practice.

The Scriptures That Carried Me—And Still Do

Here are 10 verses that helped anchor me in the stormiest seasons of motherhood. I return to them often—and I pray they speak life and peace over you today:

1. Philippians 4:6–7

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God…”
➡️ God invites you to release the worry and come to Him with every messy, real fear.

2. Isaiah 26:3

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
➡️ Peace is promised—not perfection—when your eyes stay fixed on Him.

3. 1 Peter 5:7

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”
➡️ God isn’t distant. He’s a loving Father who wants your burdens.

4. Matthew 11:28–30

“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…”
➡️ You don’t have to earn rest. It’s your inheritance.

5. Psalm 94:19

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”
➡️ Even in spiraling moments, His comfort reaches you.

6. John 14:27

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you… Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
➡️ Jesus offers a kind of peace the world can’t mimic—steady, deep, and real.

7. Proverbs 3:5–6

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”
➡️ You don’t have to figure everything out. Trust unfolds peace.

8. Psalm 121:1–2

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…”
➡️ God is your steady help when you feel like falling apart.

9. Lamentations 3:22–23

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning…”
➡️ Motherhood may deplete you—but God’s mercy refills you daily.

10. Zephaniah 3:17

“The Lord your God is with you… He will quiet you with his love…”
➡️ God doesn’t just fix problems. He soothes your anxious heart with His presence.

Bonus Resources for Your Journey

If you’re looking for more support, encouragement, or just a good cry-laugh while folding laundry, here are some grace-filled reads:

📚 “Mom Set Free” by Jeannie Cunnion
📚 “Midnight Mom Devotional” by Becky Thompson
📚 “Calm My Anxious Heart” by Linda Dillow
📚 “Rhythms of Renewal” by Rebekah Lyons

A Final Word, Mama

You don’t have to carry all of this alone. Your anxiety doesn’t disqualify you. You’re not a bad mom because you cry in the pantry or lose your marbles in Target. You are human. You are held. And you are wildly, fiercely, faithfully loved by a God who is not overwhelmed by your overwhelm.

He is with you in the endless bottle sterilization, in the pickup line, in the midnight teething wakeups—and right now, in this moment, as you take a deep breath and read these words.

And if no one has told you today: You’re doing better than you think.

-Samantha

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my kind of Crazy

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The honky-tonk music spilled out of the car as my son opened the door. It was one of those “my dog died, the fields dried up and I lost my favorite boot in a pile of cow dung” kind of songs.

Kyle reached for the radio to turn the station before he settled in to his seat.

“Don’t change the channel,” I grunted.

My son glanced at me with concern, “Why, mom? It’s totally depressing.”

“I’m trying to cry.”

“Huh? Kyle shot me a confused look.

“My pipes are clogged. I have a huge lump in my chest and I need to get rid of it. I think its PTSD.”

My son nodded carefully—a wise sage at fifteen, “Good idea mom.”

As we pulled up to the bay of lockers at his high school, Kyle climbed out the car and hollered like a drill sergeant at my open window, “I expect some tears when I get back young lady! Cry! Cry! Cry!

But instead of weeping a gurgled “waaahhhhh” sound of laughter and constipated tears tumbled out of me.

Other people cry pretty. Why do I sound like a broken doorbell?

…

I’ve always been a little afraid of emotion. I don’t seem to control it well. It’s much easier for me to write my tears than actually cry them.

When I do cry, it’s usually a colossal mess. Tears I’ve stuffed for a solid year (or two) suddenly reach their breaking point and boil over like hot lava. And once I start, it takes ages to settle down. I whimper and mew and mew some more.

It’s best to not go there.

But emotion not expressed seeps out. And under trauma—like I’m experiencing right now with losing both my parent’s—it finds a way to escape. And this escape takes strange forms—like anxiety attacks in grocery stores.

I know this because last week I freaked out in Trader Joe’s. (And maybe I did it yesterday too)

All of a sudden I felt like a lost little kid with no mommy in sight. My blood pressure sky-rocketed and I could feel the tsunami of tears pressing in on my throat.

I clutched the cart and held on for dear life.

I honestly wanted to curl up in a ball and howl in the wine section of Trader Joe’s.

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I took three deep breaths, prayed and called a friend.

But she didn’t pick up.

So I dialed my husband in desperation.

“Tim, I’m losing my (insert bad word) in Trader Joe’s. Talk me off the cliff.”

And so my sweet husband talked and talked like a 911 operators, and somehow, someway, I made it out of the store and to the safety of my car where I could shake and hiccup in peace.

I Googled “anxiety attack” when I got home.

Apparently, I’m repressing emotions.

Really?

I think it’s ironic how our culture affirms the opposite. I keep getting kudos for being “so strong.” Where do we get this idea that strength is devoid of emotion?

I need to be a puddle for a while. The stone face is not doing me any favors.

Like everyone else in Orange County, I look fine on the outside and the inside is a mess.

I’m sort of an anxiety ball that bounces around and functions because I have three kids and a husband. I read my scriptures; I take long walks and pray for the pain to go away. But most days I just wish I could curl up on the sofa under a cozy blanket, crank up the AC, light a fire (sorry East Coast friends) and an arsenal of candles and watch HGTV for a solid week(or two).

As I’ve shared my little “panic attack” moment with a few friends, I’ve heard similar stories. After my friend’s mom died, she freaked out in grocery stores for a solid year. Another friend said her mom experienced something similar after her dad died.

Who knew this was normal? Maybe I’m not the only one out there doing “whoo whoo whoo” labor breathing in Trader Joes to calm down?

Yesterday, I made it out of the store on my own. The checker gave me a few weird looks—probably because I was shaking violently and struggled to swipe my card, but I survived.

And sometimes getting past trauma is just that—surviving until we find our smile again.

And finding someone else who understands your kind of crazy.

–Samantha



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