“I live in consistent fear and dread that something bad will happen,” I told him. “I feel like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. My anxiety is crippling at times.”
Stephen, the man leading the Saturday class on prayer at church, looked at me and, with complete certainty, said, “That’s called foreboding.”
I felt tears instantly fill my eyes.
Yes. That was it.
I was familiar with the word, but I had never used it to describe what I had been experiencing for so many years. Foreboding is a strong feeling that something bad or unpleasant is going to happen, even when there may be no specific reason to believe that it will.
After he said that to me, I realized I had been living there for a very long time.
Foreboding steals peace and joy from everyday moments. It keeps part of your mind continually scanning the horizon for what might go wrong. Left unaddressed, it can become a mental prison- one you may not even realize you’re living inside.
Full transparency: this year has included some challenge and discomfort for me, but it has also brought tremendous clarity and understanding. I’m beginning to believe those things often go together. Sometimes we must be willing to lean into what is challenging and uncomfortable to understand ourselves more deeply and eventually get to the other side of whatever issue we are facing; it is part of growth.
Much of 2026 has been that for me. God has been giving me little nuggets of clarity about myself- why I think the way I do, why I see things a certain way, and why I react in certain ways. It hasn’t always been comfortable, but with each new understanding, I feel a little freer.
In short, the temporary discomfort has been worth it.
When Vigilance Becomes a Way of Life
One of the biggest things I am beginning to understand is where my foreboding mindset came from.
There was a time in my life when vigilance served a purpose. Life taught me, very dramatically, that everything could change in the blink of an eye. That experience left a deep imprint on me, and somewhere along the way, vigilance became my default setting.
I learned to scan for the next problem, anticipate what might go wrong, prepare for the worst, stay one step ahead of potential pain, and rarely, truly rest. What may have started as a response to something very real eventually became a way of approaching life- even when the original threat was no longer present.
And that realization has led me to one of the most important truths I am learning:
The past does not equal the present.
Just because something bad happened before does not mean I am predestined for it to happen again. I can acknowledge that there was a season when vigilance helped me navigate what was in front of me without allowing that season to dictate how I live today.
I needed vigilance then, but I don’t need to carry it into every tomorrow.
I don’t have to keep paying for yesterday’s pain with today’s peace.
When Fear Steals the Ability to Dream
Living on high alert long enough begins to shape not only how you respond to stressful situations; for me, it also shaped how I viewed the future. Perhaps one of my biggest realizations has been how much foreboding affected my ability to dream.
Somewhere along the way, I developed a fear- even an insecurity- about looking forward to the future. Subconsciously, I began to believe that if I allowed myself to get excited about something, make plans, dream about positive possibilities, or simply believe something beautiful could happen, that might be the moment the other shoe would drop.
As though worrying could protect me. As though vigilance could prevent heartbreak. As though expecting the worst could somehow soften the blow if the worst ever came. And perhaps most irrationally, as though allowing myself to dream might actually invite or attract something bad to happen.
When I finally began examining those beliefs instead of getting overtaken by them, I realized something:
THAT IS ALL A GIANT LIE.
Worrying about tomorrow does not protect me from tomorrow. Expecting something bad doesn't prevent something bad from happening, and refusing to dream doesn't make me safer- it simply prevents me from experiencing the hope and anticipation that are part of fully living.
More importantly for me, this type of fear-based thinking does not align with what God says. When I allow my mind to continually run through worst-case scenarios, I give those thoughts far more authority than they deserve. I allow things that haven't even happened to steal the peace available to me right now.
Understanding where my fear came from was important, but understanding alone wasn't going to free me from it. At some point, more must take place.
From Awareness to Action
For me, releasing foreboding has involved the spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical parts of myself.
I recently had someone pray with me specifically about releasing any spiritual foothold connected to fear and foreboding. That prayer was incredibly powerful for me. I experienced what felt like an immediate lifting of weight... a noticeable sense of release and lightness in that moment.
That experience reinforced my belief that I don't want to simply understand foreboding intellectually- I want to actively participate in releasing it from my life.
One of the most practical ways I can do that is through awareness.
I am learning to pay attention to my inner narrative. What am I telling myself throughout the day? What assumptions am I making? What story is my mind creating about something that hasn't even happened?
There is often a progression in destructive thought cycles: a thought enters my mind, I entertain it, I begin imagining scenarios around it, my body responds to those scenarios, and before I know it, I am experiencing anxiety over something that isn't actually happening.
If you have ever dealt with this type of thinking, that cycle may sound familiar.
Awareness matters because it gives us the opportunity to interrupt the cycle. Awareness provides a pathway to freedom.
When I notice a foreboding thought creeping in, I don't have to entertain it or follow it down the rabbit hole. I can pray immediately and surrender the fear to God. I can use an anchor statement such as, “The past is not the present. I am safe in this moment. I do not have to predict the future. God is already there.”
I can also interrupt the physical anxiety response. I can put cold water on the back of my neck, step outside, take a short walk, do a workout, stretch, or intentionally slow my breathing. I can ground myself by asking, “What do I actually know to be true right now- not what am I afraid might happen?”
And sometimes I can simply recognize the thought and say, “No. I’m not going there.” Then redirect my attention.
These may sound like basic things to apply, and in reality, they are; it is often the simple things, practiced consistently, that cultivate the biggest change.
The goal isn't to become fearful simply because I had a fearful thought. And it is important for me not to automatically confuse a foreboding or catastrophic thought with intuition- they are not necessarily the same thing. The goal is to develop enough awareness to recognize these thought patterns, challenge them, and make a conscious decision about whether I’m going to agree with them... and this is where something has begun to shift for me.
Making Room for Hope
The more I practice choosing truth over fear, the more space I create for something fear has kept at a distance for far too long: hope.
Because releasing foreboding isn't only about learning to stop expecting the worst- it's also about allowing myself to believe that the future can hold something good.
I know this may sound odd, but for so long, part of me believed that dreaming was dangerous. Now I am beginning to see dreaming differently. Dreaming isn't pretending difficult things will never happen, and it isn't denying reality or believing I can control the future.
It's allowing room for hope, and even excitement, and so I am giving myself permission to dream again.
Instead of dreading or worrying about the future, I can think about everything beautiful it might hold.
I can dream about my children’s futures. I can imagine them building lives they love. I can dream about their future marriages being healthy, vibrant, loving, and deeply fulfilling. I can dream about their children- my future grandchildren- and all the joy those relationships will bring.
I can dream about the years ahead with my husband- the experiences we’ll share, the places we’ll go, the memories we’ll make, and the ways we’ll continue growing together.
I can dream about what God might do through my work and ministry. I can imagine people I haven’t even met yet whose lives might somehow be touched, encouraged, strengthened, or changed through something God allows me to say or do.
I can look toward the future with hope instead of dread, and I can allow my soul and spirit to rest.
Choosing Peace in the Present
That word- rest- has become increasingly important to me because it means I can stop constantly searching for the next threat. I can stop believing I need to anticipate every possible problem. I can stop treating peace as though it’s dangerous, and I can fully embrace the life I’ve already been blessed with instead of allowing fear about what could happen tomorrow to diminish what God has given me today.
Because one of the greatest pieces of clarity I've gained through all of this is this:
Foreboding doesn't protect us from future pain- instead, it causes us to experience pain that hasn't happened, and may never happen, while simultaneously stealing the joy that is happening right now.
Foreboding can affect us spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Sometimes it spikes into intense anxiety that steals peace, joy, rest, and sleep. Other times it is more subtle- a persistent, low-grade sense of uneasiness whispering that something isn't right or that something bad must be around the corner.
When we live there long enough, fear can begin to feel normal, but familiar does not mean healthy, and it certainly doesn't mean we have to stay there.
Giving Myself Permission to Dream Again
So, this is another layer of the onion for me this year- another deeply rooted limiting belief being exposed so that I can understand where it came from, recognize when it appears, challenge what it tells me, and choose something different.
Maybe that is what healing and evolving often look like. Not one giant breakthrough where everything suddenly disappears, but a continual process of awareness, acknowledgment, truth, practice, and choosing differently.
Deeply ingrained fears don't disappear simply because we recognize them, but recognition gives us a choice and helps us take our power back. We can continue rehearsing the same fearful story, or we can begin writing a different one.
For me, that means I am no longer willing to spend today's peace trying to protect myself from tomorrow's possibilities.
So if you struggle with this too, first know you are not alone, and I want to encourage you to join me in letting go of the need to anticipate everything that could go wrong. Pay attention to the stories fear is telling you. Challenge them. Pray about them. Interrupt them. Replace them with truth, and little by little, allow your soul and spirit to rest.
We don't have to rehearse tomorrow's pain before it arrives. We are allowed to fully live today while believing something beautiful may be waiting for us tomorrow.
So I am choosing to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I am choosing to stop treating peace like something I can't trust.
I am choosing to believe that my past can inform me without imprisoning me.
I am choosing truth over fear, peace over vigilance, and hope over foreboding.
And after spending far too long preparing myself for everything that could go wrong, I am finally giving myself permission to imagine everything that could go right.
I am allowed to enjoy today. I am allowed to hope for tomorrow, and I am allowed to dream about the future...and so are you.
Be well.
