Micro moments of surrender

I could feel tightness in my chest and heat spreading to my face. I was working to stop tears from coming, but the meltdown was inevitable. The past three days had required a lot from my body, and my nervous system was at its limit. 

What set me off wasn’t big at all, but I still couldn’t think my way out of my nervous system’s response. All I could do was name it. I had responsibilities that I needed to show up for and this meltdown wasn’t helping. Instead of trying harder, I decided to try a softer approach.

I buried my face in my hands and cried for two minutes (yes, we can absolutely offer ourselves containment in a time-crunch). Then I reached for the tools I knew would help: an ice pack on my chest to interrupt the stress response, shaking my hands and wiggling my body to move the chaotic energy through and out, and placing both hands over my chest while speaking a few grounding phrases.

Did I feel magically “fixed?" No. I still felt tender. But I could move forward with integrity now, because I had honored what my body needed instead of bulldozing through it.

Here’s the thing: these practices aren’t just random hacks. They’re part of how God designed our bodies to recover and reset. When I attune to myself in my overwhelm, I’m not just calming myself down — I’m agreeing with His wisdom and kindness in the way He created me.

Will I honor the way God designed me? Will I slow down enough to let His peace meet me in my limits?

Life doesn’t offer us pause when our nervous system feels frayed. There are still moments that require more from us than we feel we have to give. That’s why micro-moments of surrender and compassion matter so much. They help to reestablish a baseline — not so we can push past our limits, but so we can partner with our bodies (and with God) to meet what’s in front of us.

I don’t need a vacation, a bubble bath, or a perfect environment to care for my nervous system (though those things sound wonderful). Sometimes, all it takes is two minutes of permission. A breath. A gentle reset. A moment of honest attention. 

When I’m willing to pause and name my limits, honoring the tenderness instead of resisting it, I find that I can keep showing up. And in those small pauses of surrender, I am reminded that God’s strength is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Maybe today, all you might have time for is a two minute pause. Place your hand over your chest. Take some slow, steady breaths. Try this breath prayer: “Your strength is made perfect in my weakness.” Because the God who calms storms is also the God who created your brain and designed your nervous system. And He speaks peace to your body and mind.  

Held in His Kindness,

Mallory Albrecht
Cohort Leadership Director