Yesterday I was being nudged to share a part of my life, penning heartfelt words on a subject I wish I didn’t have knowledge on. I wasn’t really interested in opening up and giving the world access. Not even my closest friends have been allowed entrance…my husband is the only one that has seen me at my weakest. Those times when I feel like jumping out of my skin, running to the ends of the earth, disappearing lifeless into the paint on the walls or melting motionless into the hardwood of our floors. And even in these moments, only my God knows the most secretive details of my body, mind and soul. He gets me. My Jehovah-rophe, the God who heals, understands my perplexities, my innermost being, way better than even I do. I didn’t want to reveal this broken area.
So…I said “No.”
This morning at 5 am I woke to kiss my hubby good-bye. But before shutting my eyes for more pleasant sleep, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through Facebook to see what my little world was up to.
Bad…bad idea! Especially after you’ve just said “No” to a divine request. Clearly my wrestling match was not over, yet.
My passion in this area runs hot! So I want to apologize if in my written expression I cause pain or come across as judgmental. Pain and judgment are not my intent. Presenting an observation from a different perspective…providing a set of unfamiliar shoes to walk in for just a brief moment in order to glimpse the battle faced on the front line …that’s my sole intent.
From the time I was a young girl I had moments I thought I was going crazy. I thought I’d stop breathing or my heart might jump out of my chest. I would run into the family room late at night telling my mom I wanted to sit with her, have her scratch my back or claim I just couldn’t sleep, I needed to lay my head on her lap…but, at that moment, I was sure I was going to die! I just needed to be with someone in case that happened…I just really needed to have a safe, secure touch that conveyed reassurance I’d be okay. I don’t know why I never told her what was going on…other than, darkness likes to stay hidden from light or being different is scary. Or…sharing your weakness SUCKS!
The earliest I remember is around 9 years old. I didn’t understand these episodes until I experienced my first depression in my early twenties. Doctors began to explain to me that I was having anxiety and panic attacks. They gave me medicine to “calm” me down. However, all that did was make things worse! The anxiety meds made my anxiety skyrocket…Ugh! I only would occasionally experience sudden tsunami waves where devastating emotional debris was left behind. Because I wasn’t living continuously in this danger zone, taking medicine on a regular basis just seemed really absurd.
I’ve wrestled with anxiety throughout my life for the last 40 years. Because of this personal painful journey, my heart breaks when I hear people say certain things. First, I feel judged and torn down and then I feel a deep compassion and mercy for those who are in the same boat as me. How must they feel when they hear careless words thrown around.
T
his morning I was confronted by a quote by George Mueller that was beautifully painted by a woman artist. “The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety.” I’ve had friends that have said “fear is the absence of faith.” I take offense to these little expressions. I believe these to be lies…lies from the enemy meant to cause even more pain than already exists in a broken body.
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m missing the mark and off base with God…but this is so contrary to everything that I’ve experienced. Maybe because my pain is so personal I misinterpret what they’re trying to say. None the less when I hear these flippant sayings I receive yet another injury.
Now do I think this was written with malicious intent or painted to stir up pain and cause wounds…uhm…NO. Absolutely not! I believe the intention was to motivate people to trust in God with everything. My questions are “Did either of these individuals ever experience anxiety and panic attacks for themselves? Are they referring to the type of anxiety I encounter? Is the context of this more like a normal ‘worry’ over getting a good grade in class, finding a close parking spot so you won’t be late or will I be able to provide food for my children tonight?”
Yes, they are entitled to their opinion, but I wanted to share how my opinion is so differing to theirs. To the majority this might just be another rant, but maybe, just maybe, there’s another soul who would benefit from hearing that someone else understands. To that one starfish stranded on the beach in the midst of 1000’s of others, hearing words of encouragement that gently toss them back into the environment they need to breath might mean everything to that starfish’s existence. If that were to happen, then my baring of my soul has been worth it.
In these confrontations, when my stomach feels punched, my heart feels shredded and my brokenness seems attacked and judged…I work hard to do like Jesus did when persecuted — “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”
You see, I don’t have “control” over when my anxiety will raise it’s head, searching to devour me.
A smell, a sound, a crowded room, a loud commotion, an exhausted body, a weird turn of my head, a car drive to familiar places are all things that can lead to my unannounced friend showing up. We are no longer acquaintances because we know each other too well. We’ve spent far too much time together.
This thing I used to view as an enemy…a terrorizer of my soul doesn’t listen when I scream “STOP!” My heart beats like it will burst from my chest. Every fiber in my being wants to run fast and hard to as far as the East is from the West. Sounds in the room seem to intensify and speed up like when fast forwarding a cassette tape. Every opening in my body wants to expel and to purge all substances from within me. There is no earthly place to run or hide, no place to flee where I can find relief. I have to let anxiety and panic run it’s course. I have to wait until the adrenaline has depleted and my mind stops circling the habitual path of terror.
I KNOW it’s irrational. I KNOW what it is. Yet, none of that matters. There’s no controlling this bullying, taunting, tyrant beast.
But even in the midst of these attacks…I have FAITH! I run to God. I seek His refuge. I seek His peace. I seek His comfort. I submit to Him saying if I die in this moment of attack, I will be in the presence of You, my Lord. Even in death I will have gained. And, in the middle of my wide-eyed terror, as sweat engulfs my body, I can rustle up a smile. Even if it is the tiniest curl of the corners of my mouth that no one else can witness…I can feel my facial muscles fighting to succeed.
I’ve chosen to change my perspective and focus on the 
positive that comes from my private encounters with uncontrollable fear. This brokenness within me might have been intended to destroy, kill, disappoint, and discourage me, but instead I’ve been driven into the arms of my Savior. That’s true faith! My terror delivers me to my God. With each battle my trust in Him is strengthened. In my weakness, God is my strength!
I’ve found there is true faith existing alongside anxiety. My God tells me “I am the Lord your God, I will take hold of your right hand. Do not fear! I will help you!” In the depths of my suffering He sits by me, walks with me, holds me until the overwhelming dread passes. If my enemy (or, so called friend) did not exist, I quite possibly wouldn’t know my Lord my God intimately like this. I can therefore rejoice in these temporary moments where I’m held in a dark prison cell because I know I’m not alone, my God is with me. This true faith is what will empower me to travel alone, leaving the security of my faithful husband who is always there to reassure me the moment will pass (yes, for an entire month to visit my grand babies), always providing the reassuring touch that I will not die. I will be dependent completely and solely on remembering God is with me during these trials…He is the One who truly helps me. He is always with me. True faith!
Faith is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to have courage to face your fears and be an overcomer! I am an overcomer.
There is a part of me that wishes this wasn’t my thorn. Yet, I’m grateful for all that it has driven me towards. Grateful for the opportunities I’m given to strengthen 
my faith, practice courage and face my fear. They are faith workouts.
I’ve heard them all… “if you had more faith, this wouldn’t happen”… “You need to know whose you are because perfect love casts out fear”… “If you really knew God completely, you’d have no fear.” ARGH! Jesus gives me pictures in my mind of turning the other cheek when someone comes to slap me. He gives me pictures of giving them my cloak too when they try to come and steal my joy of knowing Him in the midst of suffering through anxiety.
Look at it as if I had diabetes. If I knew God the best I could ever know Him, would my diabetes disappear? That’s an ailment, a broken area that for whatever reason a body has quite possibly chosen to exhibit even if I don’t over indulge in sugar, even if I regulate my food intake…it just is broken…it produces insulin at a different rate then God designed our bodies to function at. But through medicine and through God’s help I can manage my life, I can find peace in the midst of my struggle. It doesn’t go away…it’s still there.
At first I’m really angry, and then, God gets me to the point of forgiveness… “Father forgive them for they do not walk in the shoes you’ve given me. They do not know what they do to my heart.”
This peculiar juxtaposition of trust and fear spurred me to know my Identity in Christ. Getting a deep strong grasp on who I am through Jesus empowered me to cling to these truths in the pits of darkness. I was determined to scour the Bible and learn all I could about fear and anxiety, and what God says about them.
Today, this is my experience. Only God knows what tomorrow will bring or if His plan includes releasing me from these moments of captivity. In the meantime, I will fight for and love on the ones trapped in similar journeys for even in these scary spots, we can experience freedom that nothing or no one can take.
I’ve found that many times I find relief in singing praise music. My afflictions become eclipsed by His glory. Even in the midst of my troubles my desire is to praise and worship God. Thank you Jesus for your sacrifice…for loving me in all my brokenness…for healing my wounds…for providing a way of escape.