Happy Friday- I am a day early!
I'm posting a little early this week because I'm heading to my sister's for Lincoln's Balloon Festival, and tomorrow morning I plan to be up early watching the balloons instead of sitting at my computer writing a post! And maybe choosing to make room for something I enjoy fits pretty well with what we're talking about this week anyway.
We are back for Part 3 of Self-Care Isn't Selfish, and I have to admit, this one may be harder for me than caring for my body. In Part 1, we talked about learning to rest before we run completely empty. In Part 2, we talked about caring for our bodies and actually listening when they tell us they've had enough. This week, we're talking about our minds—and apparently life decided I needed some real-life material for this one too!
Earlier this week, I went to the periodontist. I've had periodontal disease for years, and I had a troublesome spot on my gum that just wasn't clearing up. I had already taken antibiotics, it was still there, and I was going back for X-rays. Of course, my mind had already gone to the worst possible place: They're going to tell me it's some kind of cancer.
Thankfully, it wasn't. But I was completely unprepared for what he did tell me. I need a bone graft on my lower gum. Surgery. I hate oral surgery, and I've had plenty of it in my lifetime. But there was something else that hit me almost immediately: this will be the first one without my mom. Suddenly I didn't want to be strong or rational or figure out the next step. I just wanted to talk to my mom, so I bawled pretty much all the way home from Champaign.
And you know what? I think that was taking care of my mind too. Sometimes taking care of ourselves doesn't mean talking ourselves out of what we're feeling. Sometimes we need to feel it. I was scared. I was disappointed. I was grieving. I missed my mom. Pretending I wasn't feeling those things wouldn't have made me stronger. It just would have stuffed them somewhere else.
Our Minds Can Run Away With Us
Then yesterday, something completely different happened. Out of the blue, a message came up that really set me on edge. I didn't know what to do about it, and immediately my mind started doing what minds sometimes do when we don't have enough information. What if this? What if that? Should I do this? What if I do the wrong thing? Am I reading too much into it? Am I not taking it seriously enough? You know the spiral.
But this time, I did something healthy. I called my pastor. I talked it through with someone I trusted. I explained what had happened, what I was thinking and what I was worried about. By the time that conversation was over, I was good. I had stopped the “what ifs,” stopped second-guessing myself, and I had a plan.
Afterward, I realized something: I'm learning to take care of my mind. Not perfectly. Obviously, I'm still capable of diagnosing myself with cancer before I even get the X-rays! But maybe taking care of our minds isn't about never worrying, never getting overwhelmed or never having our thoughts run away from us. Maybe it's learning what to do when they do.
What Are We Carrying Around?
Our minds carry so much—responsibilities, deadlines, decisions, worries, grief, conversations we keep replaying, things we wish we had said differently, and things that haven't even happened yet but we've already imagined every possible outcome. Then there is everything coming into our minds all day long—news, social media, emails, texts, opinions, problems and everybody else's emergencies. No wonder we're tired.
Romans 12:2 tells us, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” I love that word: renewing. God knows our minds need renewal. We aren't supposed to just keep piling more and more into them without ever making room for peace, truth and rest.
Not Every Thought Deserves a Room
Philippians 4:8 tells us, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” That doesn't mean pretending hard things aren't happening. It doesn't mean ignoring fear or grief, and it certainly doesn't mean we can just decide not to feel something.
I needed to cry on the way home from Champaign. Grief needed some room that day. But yesterday's “what ifs” didn't need unlimited room. There is a difference between allowing ourselves to feel something real and allowing our thoughts to keep us trapped in a cycle that isn't helping us.
Sometimes caring for our minds means asking: Is this thought true? Is it helpful? Is there something I can actually do about it? And if there is, do it. Yesterday, there was. I needed perspective, so I called someone I trusted.
Sometimes We Need Someone Else
I think many of us are pretty good at carrying things ourselves. We're the problem solvers. The planners. The people others call when something needs handled. We think three steps ahead and try to make sure everybody has what they need. Those can be wonderful qualities—until we convince ourselves that everything is ours to carry alone.
First Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” Sometimes we need to take those worries directly to God, and sometimes I believe God gives us people who help us sort through them too. Calling my pastor yesterday didn't mean I couldn't handle the situation. It meant I recognized that my mind was spinning and I didn't have to let it keep spinning by myself.
Sometimes caring for our minds means talking to a spouse or friend. Sometimes it's a pastor. Sometimes it's a counselor or mental health professional. Asking for help doesn't mean we've failed. Sometimes asking for help is the healthiest thing we can do.
What Does Your Mind Need From You?
Throughout this series, we've been asking three questions: What does my body need? What does my mind need? What does my soul need? This week, let's sit with that second one.
What does your mind need from you right now? Maybe it needs quiet. Maybe it needs you to put your phone down. Maybe it needs you to stop replaying a conversation you can't change. Maybe it needs a boundary. Maybe it needs you to talk something through with someone you trust. Maybe it needs you to cry. Maybe it needs you to stop trying to solve something that hasn't happened yet. And maybe it needs you to remember that you don't have to figure everything out by yourself.
Isaiah 26:3 says, “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” That doesn't promise us a life without scary diagnoses, unexpected messages, grief, difficult decisions or things we don't know how to handle. It reminds us where we can turn when those things come.
One Small Act of Care
Just like we've done throughout this series, I'm not asking you to completely overhaul your life this week. Choose one small way to care for your mind. Turn off the notifications. Take a break from the news. Write down the thing you keep trying to remember. Set a boundary. Spend ten minutes somewhere quiet. Let yourself cry if you need to. Pray about the thing you've been trying to solve by yourself. Or do what I did yesterday and call somebody.
I started this week crying in my car because I desperately wanted to talk to someone I couldn't call anymore. I ended it realizing that when something else became too much for my mind to sort through alone, I reached out to someone I could call. Maybe that's growth.
I'm learning that caring for my mind isn't making sure I never become scared, sad, worried or overwhelmed. It's learning to recognize what's happening inside my head and responding to it in a healthy way. Caring for your mind isn't selfish. It's stewardship.
So this week, when your thoughts start racing ahead, circling backward or carrying something that feels too heavy, ask yourself: “What does the mind God entrusted to me need today?” Then give yourself permission to do something healthy with the answer.
And tomorrow morning, what my mind needs is some time with my sister, a cup of coffee and a sky full of hot air balloons. ❤️
Next week: Self-Care Isn’t Selfish — Caring for Your Spirit
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