My default coping strategy is to withdraw but stay busy. I fill the margins with productivity so I don’t have to sit too long with whatever is stressing me out. Laundry gets folded. Emails get answered. Projects move forward. On the surface, it looks responsible. Maybe even admirable. And to be fair, sometimes it is helpful. Staying engaged with daily life can keep stress from swallowing me whole. But I’ve learned busyness is only a temporary shelter.
Kevin has been on medical leave far longer than we ever expected. What we assumed would be a short season of uncertainty has stretched into something impossible to “power through.” And as my usual coping methods have proven to be insufficient, I’ve begun to notice how thin the line is between healthy and unhealthy coping.
Healthy and unhealthy coping strategies can look very similar from the outside. Keeping busy can be grounding or it can be avoidance. Withdrawing can create needed space or it can isolate. Staying strong can be faithful or it can quietly refuse help. For me, the warning sign is this: If my strategy helps me function but not feel, there’s probably a better way. The psalmist writes,
“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” (Psalm 94:19)
Consolation requires presence. It asks me not to numb or outrun my emotions, but to bring them honestly before God. Unhealthy coping numbs me; healthy coping draws me into the presence of the Lord. That presence doesn’t magically remove the stress, but it ushers in a kind of joy that can’t be explained apart from Him.
I’ve had to learn new ways to hold the unknown. Some changes have been small, like letting myself name fears out loud instead of tidying them away. Giving myself permission to rest. Sitting with God in prayer without trying to fix the outcome. Some of them are uncomfortable, like asking for help. Admitting I don’t know how this will turn out. Staying emotionally present even when I’d rather distract myself. And reminding myself that I can trust God, no matter how much my circumstances might challenge that trust. And some days, I still default to busyness. Growth rarely looks like a straight line. Paul’s words have become an anchor for me in this season:
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” (Philippians 4:6)
Not because prayer magically removes uncertainty, but because it keeps me connected when uncertainty remains. Because coping isn’t about escaping, it’s about staying present without being overwhelmed. Faith is able to trust without answers. I still don’t have clarity, but I’m learning to live faithfully without it. And here, right in the unknown, grace has met me.