by Kelsey Gjesdal

And He withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and began to pray, saying, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him. And being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground (Luke 22:41-44).

I sat in the college study room, desperately trying to focus on the homework I needed to finish that evening while trying to ignore my racing heart. The spiral of what-ifs and never-enoughs pulled my mind far away from the assignments before me.

I was in the middle of my college career during the height of the pandemic, and the stress of that on top of my own personal struggles had reached a boiling point. Anxiety crippled me, and I had just started seeing a counselor to help me work through my struggle. But even though I knew in my head that I could find freedom from the anxiety, at that moment I felt as though I were drowning.

 I’m not sure how I came across the video, but I found myself taking a break to watch a video on Christ’s agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. What I learned about it changed my understanding of my anxiety forever.

Luke describes Jesus’ suffering in Gethsemane with a specific descriptor unique to his Gospel. He says that while Christ prayed, “His sweat became like drops of blood.” This is known as hematidrosis, a rare medical condition in which a person sweats blood from the skin without having a cut or injury. According to WebMD, while this condition can be a symptom of bleeding disorders, it can also be caused by extreme fear or anxiety.

Learning this stopped me in my tracks. Jesus, the holy Son of God, knew what anxiety felt like? Then I read in Hebrews:

For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin (4:15).

It blew my mind to realize that my High Priest could sympathize with my weakness, with my anxiety. Yes, Jesus was fully God, but He was also fully man. Jesus experienced physical pain, fatigue, hunger, and thirst. He was hurt by other people, felt emotional pain and mental distress. Jesus humbled Himself to fully embrace our humanity and walk in our shoes because He loves us.

Not only could Jesus relate to my anxiety, but He was also perfect. He did not respond to His anxiety sinfully as I am so prone to do. He did not respond with worrying or grumbling or doubting the Father’s goodness. Instead, He prayed. Jesus took His cares to the Father, where He found strength for the trials before Him.

My anxieties are small compared to those Christ experienced anticipating the agonies of the cross before Him. Yet the Lord cares about the burdens on our hearts and minds. He understands our weakness: “For He Himself knows our form; He is mindful that we are nothing but dust” (Psalm 103:14). Jesus has grace for our weaknesses because of His great love for us.

The love of Christ for the Father and for us took Him to the cross. And at the cross, grace poured out to meet our every need. The grace of Christ saves us from our sins, and His grace sees our tears and binds up our broken hearts and minds. His grace teaches us how to respond to our anxiety rightly. My healing journey has been a long process, and I am still being sanctified in learning to take my anxieties to the throne of grace instead of letting them spin in my mind. But when anxiety comes knocking, I know I can be unashamed in crying out to my Lord for help, because He’s been there. He knows. And He cares for me.