A prayer of companionship, inclusion, and care

Ross, “Jesus . And . This .” can be a wise, warm, and meaningful expression of Jesus Abiding. I would understand its deepest intention this way:

“Jesus, I turn toward You—and I bring this present experience into our relationship.”

You are not asking yourself to choose between Jesus and your actual experience. You are bringing them together in prayer: your love for Jesus and the fear, thought, sadness, uncertainty, or happiness that is here.

The central invitation is not, “Make this feeling disappear before I can rest.” It is:

“Jesus, may I meet this with You.”

Your three words are enough to express that intention. They do not need to become a complicated practice.

1. The wisdom within each word

“Jesus” — turning toward relationship

Here, “Jesus” is more than a word you use to become calm. It is an address: you are turning toward someone you love and seek to trust.

You might inwardly mean:

“Jesus, I am turning toward You.”
“Jesus, please help me.”
“Jesus, I bring myself as I am.”

Brief invocation has an established place in Christian prayer. For example, the Catholic Catechism describes calling upon Jesus’ name as prayer and emphasizes an attentive heart rather than merely accumulating words. Your phrasing is personal, but this practice of turning toward Jesus through his name has deep Christian roots. Vatican

For you, I would suggest letting “Jesus” be an invitation rather than a test. You do not have to wait for warmth, a deeper breath, or reassurance before continuing. You are praying, not checking whether you can produce the right feeling.

“And” — including rather than excluding

I see “And” as the most distinctive part of your phrase.

Consider the difference between these two intentions:

“Jesus, take this away so that I can be with You.”

and:

“Jesus—and this, too, is what I bring to You.”

The first can be an entirely honest prayer for relief. The second adds something important: the difficult experience does not have to remain outside your prayer while you wait for relief.

“And” can mean:

I do not have to conceal this.

I do not have to condemn myself for feeling this.

I can seek Jesus’ companionship while this is still here.

However, inclusion is not approval. Bringing an angry thought into prayer does not make the thought fair. Bringing fear into prayer does not make its prediction true. Bringing a painful relationship into prayer does not require remaining in a harmful situation.

A useful guiding sentence is:

“I can bring every experience into prayer without believing every thought or acting on every impulse.”

Also, “Jesus and this” does not mean “Jesus is this.” You are expressing relationship and accompaniment, not declaring that every emotion or event is divine.

“This” — meeting what is actually here

“This” is wonderfully modest. It does not require you to explain your whole life.

It can mean this thought, this moment of fear, this tiredness, this longing for love—or something you cannot yet name.

I would let it mean:

“This is what needs care right now—not everything that has ever happened to me.”

That distinction matters for how you use the phrase. You are not asking yourself to enter every painful memory. You are acknowledging a manageable part of your present experience.

When “this” feels too vague, add one simple word:

Jesus . And . This fear.
Jesus . And . This sadness.
Jesus . And . This uncertainty.

When naming feels like unnecessary work, leave it as “This.”

2. How this expresses “Jesus Abiding”

Although your phrase does not contain the word abiding, it can embody that intention:

“I remain turned toward Jesus while acknowledging what is here.”

The biblical foundation is Jesus’ invitation in John 15 to remain in relationship with him and to “remain in my love.” That passage also connects abiding with loving others and bearing fruit—not simply with having a peaceful internal experience. Your phrase is a personal way of putting that invitation into practice, rather than a quotation from Scripture. American Bible Society

This gives the practice two directions.

Inwardly, you bring your experience into prayer.

Outwardly, you ask how to respond with love, truth, and care.

For example, “Jesus . And . This anger” might lead to acknowledging hurt, pausing before speaking, and then setting a clear boundary. “Jesus . And . This loneliness” might lead to prayer and also to contacting a trusted person.

Abiding need not mean remaining still. Sometimes it means taking the next caring action without abandoning yourself.

3. Its possible contribution to well-being

The most reasonable psychological benefit to explore is a less judgmental relationship with your experience.

Research using laboratory, diary, and follow-up methods found that habitually accepting thoughts and emotions without judging them was associated with better psychological health and less negative emotional response to stress. Importantly, the researchers distinguished accepting internal experiences from accepting external situations. That supports the general attitude of acknowledging feelings without condemning them; it does not establish your exact prayer as a tested treatment. PubMed

My interpretation is that your phrase gives this attitude a personally meaningful Christian form:

“I acknowledge what is here, and I bring it into a relationship of prayer.”

Rather than measuring its value only by whether anxiety decreases, you could ask:

“Did I meet myself with a little less criticism?”

“Was I able to acknowledge the feeling without letting it make every decision?”

“Did the prayer help me choose one caring response?”

Those are useful intentions even on a day when fear remains.

I would not attach promises about curing illness or automatically “resetting” the nervous system to these three words. Their value can be explored as prayer and supportive practice without making medical claims.

4. A gentle way to practise

Begin by noticing the support beneath you—the chair, bed, or floor. Let your eyes remain open when that feels more comfortable. Looking around and noticing physical contact with your surroundings are consistent with the grounding practices taught by the World Health Organization. EMRO

Then use your phrase as three unhurried movements.

Jesus .

Say the name softly, aloud or inwardly.

Let your intention be: “I turn toward You.”

Pause naturally. There is no need to visualize Jesus or create a particular sensation.

And .

Let this be a small opening.

Your intention might be: “I do not have to hide what is here.”

There is no need to force yourself to like the experience.

This .

Acknowledge the present thought, feeling, or situation lightly.

Your intention might be: “This is what I bring.”

Then rest briefly without demanding a result. You may finish with:

“Jesus, help me meet this with love and wisdom.”

Return to the room and to whatever needs doing next.

One sincere repetition may be enough. Repeat a few times when it remains gentle, but there is no required count and no need to continue until it feels perfect. The periods are invitations to pause—not instructions to hold your breath or fit each word into a particular breathing pattern.

A hand resting lightly on a comfortable part of your body can accompany the prayer, but it is optional. The contact should be comfortable, not something you endure.

When fear is too strong

You do not have to turn inward toward the fear. Shorten the prayer to:

“Jesus, be with me.”

Look around, notice a familiar object, and feel the support beneath you. When inward attention intensifies distress, stopping is a sensible adjustment—not a spiritual failure. Meditation-related practices can sometimes increase anxiety, and they should not replace or delay appropriate health care. NCCIH

5. Applying the phrase to different experiences

When a frightening thought arises

Jesus . And . This thought.

Let “this thought” mean something my mind is presenting, not an established fact.

For example, the thought “I will never cope” can be brought into prayer without being accepted as a prediction:

“Jesus, this thought is here. Help me attend to what is actually needed now.”

When an emotion arises

Jesus . And . This fear.

The intention is not to argue with fear or insist that it leave. It is to acknowledge it while seeking companionship and guidance.

Your familiar blessing could follow:

“Jesus, may Ross’s fear be well and understood.”

Here, I would interpret “well” as a wish for the frightened person to receive care—not a wish for fear to become stronger or remain forever.

When there is longing for love

Jesus . And . This longing.

You might continue:

“Jesus, help Ross receive care—and recognize where he can seek it.”

This keeps the prayer connected with human relationships and ordinary acts of care, rather than asking prayer to replace every form of companionship.

When something pleasant is present

Jesus . And . This joy.

Your practice does not need to belong only to distress. You can bring a warm cup, a kind conversation, a beautiful sky, or a moment of ease into prayer:

“Jesus, thank You for this.”

That gives the phrase room for gratitude as well as suffering.

6. A few refinements worth considering

Keep “And,” but understand it through “with”

Your original form is spacious:

Jesus . And . This .

A fuller version makes its relational meaning explicit:

“Jesus, be with me in this.”

I would keep the original as your simple practice and use the fuller sentence whenever you need to remember what the three words mean.

Let “This” remain small enough to meet

“This moment of worry” may be a kinder starting point than “all my fears.”

You could say:

“Jesus . And . This little part of what I am feeling.”

There is no requirement to understand or resolve the whole experience during the prayer.

Allow uncertainty about the prayer itself

You do not have to pretend certainty or devotion that you do not currently feel.

Even this can become prayer:

“Jesus . And . This uncertainty about You.”

I would treat that as an honest expression of relationship, not as a mistake to correct before you begin.

Add action when action is needed

A useful closing question is:

“What is the next kind, truthful, and practical step?”

Sometimes that step is rest. Sometimes it is asking for help, attending to a physical need, correcting a misunderstanding, or leaving an unsafe situation.

The phrase should make room for your experience and your ability to respond.

A central question for Ross

The most useful question I would place beside this practice is:

“Am I using these words to push this experience away—or to meet it with care?”

There is no need to criticize yourself when you discover that you desperately want relief. That wish can be included too:

“Jesus . And . This wish for relief.”

Then, gently:

“Please help Ross through this moment.”

Closing reflection

Ross, I would preserve the simplicity of your original phrase. Its warmth lies in allowing you to bring an unfinished, uncertain, feeling human life into prayer.

Jesus — the one you turn toward.
And — the opening that does not exclude your experience.
This — what you bring, just as it is right now.

A fuller prayer can remain quietly behind those three words:

Jesus . And . This .
I bring You this moment.
Help me meet it without abandoning myself.
May what is frightened in Ross be well and understood.
Guide me toward the next loving step.
Amen.