In our family, when someone begins to dwell on worst-case scenarios, we call it “catastrophizing.” It’s not usually a demon I have to fight, but I found myself experiencing it on a smaller scale this past week when working out. My shoulders felt like they were going to disconnect from my body and there were still 20+ minutes to go. It felt like it was going to never end and it took so much willpower to keep going that I needed a nap when it was over.

It’s hard not to “catastrophize” our current situation.

Whatever it is that is most challenging for you in this time (whether that’s isolation and loneliness, the challenges of homeschooling or providing daycare for your children while also trying to work full-time, the fear that you’ll run out of toilet paper, or concern for your own health or the health of someone you love), it’s hard not to worry (at least some of the time), that it will be like this forever. That even if the stay-at-home restrictions are lifted you won’t be able to go out because you’re in the “at-risk” demographic, or that you’ll be expected to go to work and your kids still won’t have school, or that someone you love won’t be as careful as they should be and will get sick. The endless negative possibilities combined with a lack of knowledge about how long or when, can send your mind and your spirit reeling.

I’ve learned over the years that, for me, the only antidote that consistently works (by which I mean, it consistently work about 80% of the time—nothing is perfect after all) is centering prayer and taking a break. Both things, in moments of overwhelm or “catastrophizing” feel completely antithetical—the last thing I have time to do when I already don’t have enough time is to stop working or to do nothing. But, inevitably (80%) of the time, when I do stop, when I force myself to take an afternoon off or sit quietly in contemplation for 30-45 minutes, things seem to shift back into perspective.

For me, Easter this year feels a lot about looking at things differently—looking at an empty tomb and seeing not the absence of a body but the absence of death itself, looking at a stay-at-home restriction and seeing not impossibility but new opportunities. In my sermon on Sunday, I shared the following video, but I think it’s worth sharing again because sometimes we need to see things in a new way a few times before they can truly sink in.

Unless your personality is similar to mine, it’s possible that centering prayer and/or taking a break won’t be what works to reset things for you, but I wonder, what does?