Faith it Through

This poem/prayer is dedicated to those who may be suffering from anxiety. I understand how hard it grips you and how as a result you feel hopeless. God sees our tears and He can erase all of our fears. Trust Him. 

Mountain of anxiety be lifted up
And thrown into the sea
And Don’t come back with more fear
To terrorize me.

Body, and mind, and spirit too
Believe that God can deliver you
And Be healed by His stripes
Tired of these attacks
I’m losing my strength to fight.
But I’m not turning back

God, hear me and let my tears fall at Your feet
Anchor my faith in You
And let Your healing wells run deep.

You did not give me a spirit of fear,
But of power, love, and a sound mind
You have not left me, nor forsaken me
You are right here.
And every thing will be fine.

So Lord, I praise You even in the valley
I praise You even though it’s hard
I praise You with the queasiness in my belly
I praise You for what I can’t see naturally
I praise You in advance
For complete healing and the unwavering faith stance

That I will have joy in the morning,
I will rest in You,
I will be delivered from all my fears,
I will continue on with hope and a future penned by You,
And I will survive today and continue to faith it through.

In Jesus’ name, amen.



Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Help

Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

Recently, I had an anxiety attack. But….I’m happy to say I fought it but not without God’s grace and strategies. Alone in a classroom with worn carpet, ununiformed chairs, desks, and tables, I prayed, sang along to worship music, recited God’s Word with as much confidence that could be mustered, took deep breaths, focused in on my breathing, texted my best friend to share my ordeal, and then I tried to face it. But when the Holy Spirit also led me to pick up my pen and grab my notebook, I was able to release it. (A couple of lines were added after the initial writing.)


She could no longer run. She tried to hide but her breathing was as loud and frantic as the rain.

As the rain pranced on the pavement and tapped against her window, she began to pray that the nerves in her stomach would relax. That the hairs on the back of her neck would comfortably rest upon it instead of standing erect in fear. That her breathing focused and grew patient.

That the intruder would be revealed. What did the intruder want from her? How did the intruder find her? She gave no permission for this being to inhabit her space.

Even if she could, she would not scream. She gripped her knees with one arm as she leaned against the wall next to her nightstand. All the while, she kept her eyes fixed on the door that was shutting out the intruder and his intensions. She reached for her pad and pen to scribble for help.

She needed help. There is an intruder but the intruder feels so familiar. She was being dragged towards despair yet frozen in fear. Her thoughts churned, her pen moved, and the rain continued to tap also for her attention. She needed help.

Little did she realize that help was already present. He had arrived when she began to pray. He was devoted towards saving her life. She paused her pen and closed her eyes. She quieted her soul for it had grown loud with fear. She focused on her savior. “I am a present help in the time of trouble,” he said. She could no longer hear the intruder, no longer feel the intruder. Maybe this was a false alarm, but her body and soul had believed it was real.

For God hath not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 KJV