I was a high school junior and stood near the net of the indoor tennis court during a winter workout. There were four of us on the court. My coach was conducting a doubles drill and my partner was serving. Being a singles player, net play was always a little intimidating for me. I was more comfortable on the baseline and confess that I was a little afraid of getting hit with the serve while I stood at the net. As the drill went on, I would lean towards the alley, slowing working my way closer to side of the court, doing my best to stay safe. My coach would yell, “Lori! Stop hugging the sidelines. Move towards the center so that you can anticipate the return and hit a volley.” I would baby step towards the middle and do my best to cover the return of serve. The sideline seemed to have a magnet though and my body would start leaning to the left. Exasperated, my coach said, “Lori! Stop with the leaning! You aren’t going to get hit! We can all run sprints instead if you want.”

I took a deep breath, gripped my racket a little tighter and moved towards the middle of the court.  I stared at my opponent, bending forward in a ready position. And just like that, my partner unintentionally served the ball into the back of my head.

I dropped my racket, rubbed my head and faced my coach. My partner, half laughing, said, “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Are you ok?” We both started laughing as I looked at my coach and dramatically said, “See! That is why I don’t like being at the net. Can I please be the server instead?”

My coach slapped his hand to his forehead, asked if I was ok, and then said, “Nope. You still have to learn how to play at the net. Get back over there and let’s keep doing the drill.”

I have been finding that this quarantine feels a little like standing at the net during that doubles drill. There are days that I feel calm and peaceful and really grateful for the slower pace, the extra time to work on projects that have been ignored, and sweet moments with my family.

But other days, I find myself battling anxiety that I can’t explain, which sometimes seems to come out of nowhere, an unexpected blow like a tennis ball in the back of my head.

Maybe you can relate?

What do we do when that happens? My tendency is to want to avoid feelings like this, to distract myself, to just figure out how to fill my day with moments that make me feel more comfortable.

And to be honest, I sometimes get a little annoyed at myself when I feel like this. I think, “I was ok yesterday. I read and prayed and felt more peaceful. Why is this happening again?”

I have written this before, but one of my favorite quotes is the St. Benedict quote, “Every day we begin again.”

When we recognize that anxiety is like a magnet that is pulling us towards the sidelines we need to avoid, we begin again.

We call a friend and say, “I am not doing well. Can you please just talk to me for a minute and pray for me?” (Sometimes this is the bravest thing we can do!)

We open the Psalms and speak truth to ourselves. Pray the words aloud. Use them as a prayer. Psalm 23 starts with “The Lord is my shepherd.” A verse a lot of us have heard before. But let’s make it our prayer. “Lord, you say you are my shepherd. I really need that right now. Please be my shepherd.”

These may not seem like earth shattering tactics, but when praying these verses calm my anxiety and help me to settle, that feels quite earth shattering right now.

Please hang in there. Like my coach said to me all those years ago, we still have to do this drill. Let’s remind each other of truth and continue to encourage each other during this difficult time.