This is What a Crisis of the Soul Looks Like (When You’re Still In It)

I'm not writing this from the other side.

I'm not writing this with the benefit of hindsight, where I can tie everything up with a bow and tell you how it all worked out. I'm not going to give you the "here's what I learned" breakdown that makes everything feel neat and resolved.

I'm writing this from the middle. From the mess. From January 2026, where I'm battling depression, anxiety, hopelessness, and a bleak state of mind that I haven't felt this intensely in 8 years.

And I'm scared.

But I also have hope. And I want to talk about both of those things - the fear AND the hope - because that's what it's really like to go through a crisis of the soul.

What I Mean When I Say "Crisis of the Soul"

When I think about the different types of crises we go through in life, I realize they're not all the same.

There's the crisis of losing a parent, a child, facing a serious illness. Those are earth-shattering, life-altering crises that I don't want to minimize.

But a crisis of the soul? That's different.

Your soul is the very center of who you are. It's the place of your deepest thoughts, emotions, and longings. When God created humanity, He breathed His own breath of life into us (Genesis 2:7). When your soul is aligned with Him, it becomes a wellspring of peace and strength.

But when life feels heavy, that same soul can feel stuck. Distant from God. Challenged in ways that make you question everything.

Your soul yearns to be full. God longs to fill it. And when there's a disconnect between those two things - when you're desperately searching but coming up empty - that's a crisis of the soul.

The Last Time I Was Here

Eight years ago, I stood in this exact same place.

December 2018. I was 40, divorced, and unemployed. I woke up one morning after a booze cruise weekend and said "enough."

I wasn't happy about getting divorced. But honestly? I didn't expect it to wreck me the way it did. I was completely unprepared for the loneliness. For how much it rattled me. For how alone I felt. For how desperate I became, searching for other people and things to fill that space.

I started doing what a lot of people do when they're having a crisis of the soul: I filled it with idols.

Drinking too much. Keeping my mind occupied with social outings and distractions. Anything to avoid being alone with myself and the crushing weight of that emptiness.

I told every friend I had that I needed to go into a self-induced "silent retreat" away from everyone. For weeks, I took these epically long walks every day, talking in a low voice with God, begging Him to be present in my life and give me guidance.

That's when I learned: a self-reliant Christian is no Christian at all.

God met me in that crisis. He showed up. And I came out on the other side with a stronger connection to Him, to Jesus, to Holy Spirit.

So here's what I know: God is preparing me for something right now.

But here's what I also know: I've been fighting Him on it every single step of the way.

The Four Things I'm Clinging To (And Why I'm Terrified to Let Them Go)

In my journal, I've been brutally honest with God. I've said:

Please remove this from my plate.

I don't want all of these problems.

And right now, there are four specific things I'm clinging to: four areas where I'm wrestling with control and desperately trying to figure out how to make things work on my own terms.

1. Career

My career path feels extremely unclear right now. At a bit of a stand-still. I'm nearly 50, and I always thought by this point I'd be hitting the apex of what I've built professionally.

Instead, I'm creating a new business - Soulfull Life, which I love SO much - and I have no idea how to make it flourish. I'm literally writing this blog to an audience of zero. I have no followers. No traction.

I've tried to be on Instagram, but I don't want to do performative actions. I don't want to be fake or inauthentic, because that's not what I want to build my community around.

And I'm scared that maybe God's plan for me isn't to be somebody who makes a lot of money, but instead makes a lot of impact. Which sounds beautiful in theory. But in practice? It's terrifying because I have no idea if I’m on the path of impact, either. 

2. Relationships

There are people in my life right now that I don't really like, but I can't avoid. And I'm dealing with the tension of knowing I need to extend grace, to love them well, to show up with kindness - even when everything in me wants to pull away.

I'm also craving connection. Deep, authentic community with other Christian women who get it. Who won't judge me for being messy. Who can hold space for the fact that I love Jesus AND I'm struggling.

But finding that? It's hard. And the loneliness of not having it weighs on me more than I want to admit.

3. Aging

This one is hard to talk about, because it feels vain. But I'm going to be honest anyway.

I'm struggling with what it means to age as a woman. I've been losing my hair - a lot of it - and we can't identify the underlying cause. My bloodwork looks good, so it's just a process of testing hormone levels and trying to figure it out.

And look, I know there are bigger things in life than hair. I know vanity is an idol I shouldn't be worshipping. But my hair has always been something people complimented. Something that, if I'm being completely honest, I've tied to my identity.

Watching it fall out feels scary. It feels like a loss of control over something I thought I could count on.

And when I'm around people who really do treat vanity as an idol, I'm so aware of the lens it's holding up in front of me. It's like, "Oh, this is what it looks like when you make something your god instead of trusting the real God."

4. Control

This is the big one. The one underneath all the others.

I have control issues. Deep, stubborn, self-reliant control issues that tell me if I just work hard enough, strategize well enough, figure out the right steps, I can make big things happen.

And God keeps showing me: No, you can't.

You have to relinquish control. You have to fully trust Me.

And I'm fighting it. Because trusting God when you can't see the outcome? When you don't know how it's going to turn out? That's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

What It Feels Like to Be Here, Right Now

I don't want to dislike myself so much.

I don't want to feel this level of hopelessness and helplessness and bleakness.

I don't want to be battling the intersections of depression and anxiety while also trying to show up for the life God has given me.

And yet, here I am.

But here's the thing I want to make really, really clear:

Even in the middle of all this darkness, I DO have hope.

I really do.

Because I've been here before. And I know - I KNOW - that God met me in that place eight years ago. He showed up when I was divorced, unemployed, and desperate. He painted a way for me when I couldn't see one.

When I was unemployed, it was hard. Especially being newly divorced. But in the end, I learned how to spend my money differently. I learned how to value things differently. I never missed an opportunity to save. I never missed an opportunity to invest. I never missed a bill payment.

I learned to live on less. And then, within a few years, I found myself at one of the financial heights of my life.

But I had to go through a lot of hard times to get there.

This is no different.

God is working. Even when I can't see it. Even when I'm scared and fighting Him and begging Him to remove this from my plate.

He's working.

The Scriptures I'm Clinging To

When everything feels out of control, I go back to God's Word. Not because I have it all figured out. But because His truth is the only thing steady enough to hold onto.

Here are a few verses I've been tied to:

Philippians 4:7 - "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Romans 12:2 - "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

1 Corinthians 2:9 - "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him."

These verses remind me there will be something I come out on the end of this. And it will be better.

But I don't know what that looks like right now.

And to be honest? I'm scared.

The Four Pillars That Are Holding Me Together (Even When I Feel Like I'm Falling Apart)

I created Soulfull Life around four pillars: Move, Meditate, Create, and Grow.

And I don't want this to seem like a shameless plug. But I want to be honest about WHY I started this work in the first place.

These pillars aren't just concepts I teach. They're the practices that are holding me together right now. They're part of what's giving me hope, even in the middle of this crisis.

Move: When I Can't Think My Way Out, I Move My Body

Physical activity is so important to me because it helps me feel more rooted to Christ.

When I'm stuck in my head - spiraling, anxious, overthinking - movement is what pulls me back into my body. It reminds me that God gave me this vessel, this breath, this heartbeat. And even when my mind is a mess, my body can still move. Still pray. Still worship.

I'm not talking about punishing workouts or trying to "fix" myself through exercise. I'm talking about gentle stretching, walking outside, my yoga practice, moving with intention while I talk to God.

Richard Foster says that Scripture is full of physical worship: prostrating, kneeling, lifting hands, dancing. The Hebrew word for worship literally means "to prostrate." Bless means "to kneel." Thanksgiving means "an extension of the hand."

We offer God our bodies, not just our hearts. Worship is physical because we are physical.

So when I'm in crisis mode, I move. Even when I don't want to. Even when it feels hard. Because movement isn't just about exercise - it's about embodying the truth that God's Spirit is alive in me.

Meditate: When I Can't Hear God, I Sit and Listen Anyway

Meditation is simply slowing down long enough to let God's Word sink deep into my soul.

I'm not great at this right now, if I'm being honest. My mind is racing. My anxiety is high. Sitting still feels impossible some days.

But I do it anyway.

I choose one verse. I sit. I breathe. I repeat the verse. I let it follow me through the day.

No pressure. No streaks to maintain. No gamified apps telling me I'm "winning" at meditation.

Just me, God's Word, and the hope that He'll meet me in the stillness - even when the stillness feels uncomfortable.

Create: When I Feel Like I'm Losing Myself, I Make Something

God is the Creator, and I'm made in His image. That means creativity isn't just for "artistic people" - it's woven into who I am at my core.

But here's what happens: we tend to overthink creativity and what it means. 

Lately, I've been tending to my creative expression through cooking, arranging flowers, thinking of designs for Christian-inspired jewelry and apparel. Maybe this doesn’t get categorized as "art" to some people. I don’t know, it feels like “creation” to me. 

I also journal. A lot. Stream-of-consciousness thoughts where I'm brutally honest with God about how scared I am. How much I'm struggling. How desperately I want Him to fix this.

When I create - even in the smallest, simplest ways - I'm reminding myself that I'm not just surviving. I'm alive. I’m progressing. And that feels optimistic. That's where joy lives, even in the middle of a crisis.

Grow: When I Don't Have the Answers, I Keep Showing Up to Learn

Spiritual growth is about tending to what's happening beneath the surface. Your thoughts, emotions, relationships, so they're shaped by God's truth instead of your fear.

Right now, I'm doing more with my church. Volunteering. Taking theology classes. Getting my master’s degree in Bible Studies. Spending a lot of time super focused in the New Testament, absorbing verses that are trying to help me see things from a new lens.

"Be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2) reminds me that real change begins within.

I don't have all the answers. I'm scared that I'm not growing fast enough, or well enough, or in the right direction.

But I keep showing up. Because that's what growth looks like when you're in the middle of a crisis. Not perfection, just persistence.

Why I'm Writing This (And Why Community Matters)

So much of what I see on Instagram and social media right now are these posts that are supposed to show vulnerability, but really they're just... deviant attempts to say, "Here's the struggle I had, but look how quickly I resolved it! Look how great I am!"

I don't want to do that.

I want to be really open and say: Yes, I have hope. And these are the things that help give me hope. But in this moment today, in January 2026, and over the last several months, I've been really struggling.

I don't have every answer right now.

And maybe I'm brave enough to say: I need help.

Part of why I believe so much in community is because we HAVE to come together as Christian women to support one another. We grow best when we're not alone.

And that's exactly what I'm trying to find right now. Support. Connection. Women who get it.

If you're reading this and you feel the same way - if you're in your own crisis of the soul and you're scared and you don't have all the answers but you still have hope - I want you to know: you're not alone.

I'm right here with you.

The Test I'm Afraid Of (And the Hope I'm Holding Onto)

I'm scared knowing that the test I'm enduring right now is to show me there's something more important than these four things I'm clinging to.

Career. Relationships. Aging. Control.

I'm scared knowing that God is asking me to surrender. Fully. Completely. With no guarantees about what's on the other side.

God is the one I need to trust. God is the one I have to surrender to.

And I'm struggling just like I was eight years ago. Because I want to understand the outcome. I want to see where things are going. I want to know that it's going to be okay.

But the truth is, God made a way for me eight years ago when I couldn't see it. And I have to trust that He's doing the same thing now.

I just have to wait. And trust. And keep showing up.

Even when it's hard. Even when I'm scared. Even when I don't know what's next.

An Invitation (If You're Ready)

Friend, if this blog post stirred something in your heart, I want to invite you into something.

You don't have to go through your crisis of the soul alone. You were never meant to.

Join the free Soulfull Life community at soulfull-life.circle.so. It's a digital space where Christian women connect, share prayer requests, and support each other through the messy middle. No performance. No judgment. Just real women loving Jesus and trying to figure it out together.

Download my free guide: From Spiritually Stuck to SoulFull: A Christian Woman's Guide to Realigning with Joy. It walks through the four pillars I mentioned (Move, Meditate, Create, Grow) with practical tips you can implement today, even when you're in crisis mode.

Learn more about the retreats: If you're craving a space where you can show up as your whole self - messy, questioning, struggling, hoping - and be met with zero judgment, check out Soulfull Life retreats. It's a one-day (or weekend) experience where you'll move your body in prayer, meditate on Scripture, create something meaningful, and grow in authentic community with other women in an intentionally small group (5-7 women).

Most women come alone. And by the end of the day, no one feels like a stranger.

Because when you're in a small, intimate group doing life-giving practices together, real connection happens naturally.

You'll leave with more than just tools -  you'll leave with frientorships (friendships + mentorships), with renewed hope, and with the reminder that you're not alone in this.

In Closing

I don't know how this crisis is going to resolve. I don't know what God is preparing me for.

But I know He's in it with me. And I know He's in it with you, too.

Being stuck is not the end of your story. It's often God's invitation to take a moment, reset, and realign with His intentions.

You don't have to figure it all out alone. You were never meant to.

So here I am. January 2026, scared, struggling, clinging to hope. Writing to an audience that might be zero or might be you.

And if it's you, I'm so glad you're here.

Let's walk this journey together.

And, in the meantime, I would humbly ask you to pray for me and pray that I can trust and surrender to God. And if I can pray for you, please let me know how. 

"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
-  Philippians 4:7

Connect with me:
Instagram: @soulfull_erin | @soulfull_life_retreats
Website: www.soulfull-life.com
Email: erin@soulfull-life.com
Free Community: soulfull-life.circle.so