The Weight of the Glass
If you hold a glass of water for a minute, it feels light. Hold it for ten minutes, your arm starts to ache. Hold it for an hour, it feels unbearable. The weight hasn’t changed, but the longer you carry it, the heavier it feels. Stress works the same way.
It’s not the size of the problem that breaks you, but the endless carrying of it without ever putting it down. Many of us carry responsibility, pressure, and worry for so long that we no longer notice the damage. And because the wounds of a depleted nervous system are invisible, nobody applauds us for resting or offers compassion when our mind is bruised. With a broken leg, people understand. But when your nervous system is worn thin, you often feel misunderstood, even ashamed, silently suffering while the world keeps spinning.
The Hidden Cost of Strength
Anxiety, poor sleep, digestive issues, low immunity, and eventually burnout or depression aren’t the result of weakness, but of overextended strength. Modern life runs faster than human design allows. The constant flood of news, the relentless buzz of phones, the endless need to prove yourself—each signal tells your body it is under threat. Even if you don’t feel it immediately, the toll accumulates. Every time you miss the balance between pressure and rest, your nervous system pays the price.
Gas and Brake
Your nervous system is like a car with two pedals:
- Sympathetic (SNS) – the gas pedal, mobilizing stress and adrenaline.
- Parasympathetic (PNS) – the brake, restoring calm, digestion, and healing.
A healthy body flows between both. But chronic stress traps us in overdrive. Even worrying, overthinking, or trying to “fix yourself” can feel like slamming the gas pedal. The cycle is subtle but merciless:
- Feeling unsafe—through a vague worry, tension at work, or even a foreboding sense of doom.
- Heightened attention—the brain scans for danger, amplifying every signal.
- Growing anxiety—the more you notice, the more unsafe you feel.
- Physical symptoms—tight chest, shallow breath, sweaty palms, pounding heart.
- Catastrophic thoughts—“What if this never stops?”
- Panic—the cycle intensifies, looping back to fear.
The spiral deepens until the nervous system itself becomes stuck. Silent suffering, invisible to others, but exhausting to the core.
But simply understanding these cycles that we get stuck in can bring real freedom. Yet many of us were taught that fear and worry prove our faith is weak. Ironically, it is often because of our faith and resilience that we carried too much weight in the first place. Our overextended strength led us into depletion.
Breaking the Cycle
The hopeful truth is this: your nervous system can unlearn the fear cycle. One of the simplest tools is the breath. By slowing down, extending your exhale, and practicing regularly—even when you feel calm—you teach your body safety again. Every pause, every breath, every choice to slow down whispers to your system: you are safe now.
Training your nervous system is more powerful than training your muscles. Breath by breath, meal by meal, connection by connection, you rebuild trust in your own body.
Part 2: A Deep Dive into the Cycle of Trust
Elijah’s Exhaustion
The Bible does not hide the story of depleted people. Elijah, after his greatest victory, collapsed in despair. He had poured out every ounce of strength—fighting, praying, running—and days later begged God to take his life. His faith hadn’t vanished. His nervous system had collapsed.
And God’s response? No rebuke. No lecture. Just food, water, sleep, silence, and eventually a still small voice. Restoration came before mission.
God as Complete Safety
When life unravels, you don’t just need a safety net—you need absolute security. That’s what God offers. He is not just your backup plan, He is your fortress.
“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.’” (Psalm 91:2)
Psalm 91 is not a theory, it’s an invitation. Speaking to God in an intimate, personal way—declaring “You are my refuge, my fortress, my God”—creates a deep sense of security, belonging, and safety that nothing else can provide.
Safety is essential to function well. Science shows that lifting up your eyes calms the nervous system, and the Bible instructs us to do exactly that.
“I will lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1–2)
The rest of the Psalm assures us of God’s protection and care. In the biblical meditation that accompanies this topic, you’ll learn how to experience the fullness of this principle—combining God’s Word with practices that calm your nervous system so truth moves from head to heart.
A Statement to Hold On To
Sometimes we wonder: Why is God not doing more to help me get through? Why is He not more active, why is He not making things easier?
The truth is this: it is up to us to calm our nervous system so we can receive His care and provision. God can do little with someone frantic and anxious—so He gives them the treatment He gave Elijah: rest, nourishment, and the space to restore the parasympathetic nervous system.
Resisting Without Striving
James 4:7 tells us: “Submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
Resist here does not mean frantic fighting. In Greek, anthistēmi means “remain unaffected.” True resistance is staying rooted in God’s truth until lies lose their power. Fighting panic with more intensity only traps us in the sympathetic mode. Submission calms the system, allowing peace itself to do the resisting.
Fear and the Nervous System
2 Timothy 1:7 declares: “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” This is not about rebuking fear, but about shifting into the parasympathetic state where God’s power, love, and clarity flow freely. The fight against fear is not won by force—it is won by entering rest.
When Perfect Love Casts Out Fear
For years, I read 1 John 4:18—“Perfect love casts out fear”—as an accusation. If I still felt fear, I must be failing. Shame piled onto fear, and I ended up in a religious panic loop: afraid of being afraid. But that was never God’s intent.
This verse isn’t condemnation; it’s liberation. Fear isn’t expelled by effort, but by love. When you allow God’s compassion to touch the very place fear grips you, love itself displaces the torment. Shame leaves. Fear loses its foothold. And peace returns.
Grace Over Performance
A performance-driven faith often keeps us stuck in sympathetic overdrive. But God knows our frame, remembers we are dust (Psalm 103:14), and has compassion. Neuroscience and Scripture converge here: true restoration flows not from striving, but from grace, rest, and trust.
Don’t Get Frustrated by the Timeline
Untangling years of stress, fear, and conditioning takes time. Trust the process. Rejoice that you’re aware, that you’ve begun the journey, that you’re allowing God’s love and rest to heal what striving never could. Calming your nervous system isn’t weakness—it’s trust. And in that trust, you’ll discover the One who is both your fortress and your peace.
Meditations for the Journey
Reading about these truths is one thing. Experiencing them is another. That’s why I encourage you to explore the biblical meditations that accompany this article. They combine God’s Word with stillness practices that calm your nervous system, helping you receive truth not just in your head but deep into your heart.
