It started in the spring of 2009. Being a Christian for 10 years at that point, I never thought that my relationship with God could be shaken so much. In fact, I was shaking. Unable to move. Chest heavy. trembling with fear. Fear of what you ask? Everything and nothing all at the same time.
So started the uncontrollable anxiety attacks....
Everyday I would wake up with an anxiety attack. It would happen multiple times a day at all different levels of severity. I remember my prayers through this season. Deeper, stronger, more intense prayers than I thought I was even capable of. I couldn't watch the news anymore because I would just cry. So much negativity and so little hope for a brighter future. This seemed to be something that triggered the anxiety attacks. Fear of the unknown. My heart would ache because I felt as if there were so many people in turmoil that may not ever have a chance to know God like I did. I know what most people think. When they hear of someone feeling that way towards others all over the world they say, "they must be called to missions!". Well that's the thing. I don't feel that calling. I feel the calling to reach out on behalf of those people. In Prayer. This was a season to where my prayer life took off like a wildfire. But there was still these extreme anxiety attacks. So extreme that I had lost my appetite and would on occasion throw up because of the stress on my body. I lost a lot of weight and lost confidence in my prayers. I was losing confidence in my faith. My parents considered and discussed with me the option of professional help a handful of times. But each time I said that I'd be ok. Even when I really saw no end in sight to this. I believe that God is our healer and that he would show me what to do with this. I kept feeling him tell me "this is for a reason, just trust me."
I could go on about the details of this season as there are so many. So many moments of frustration and despair. I'll tell you (and I laugh at it now) I did have a moment of sitting in my car during a storm (in a parking lot, not driving) screaming at God. I was so angry and fed up with everything that was going on with me. I was mad that I wasn't getting answers. I was mad that He hadn't "fixed" me yet. Little did I know that this would be an ongoing issue.
One day in the fall of 2010 I stopped at Starbucks to catch up with an old student of mine. We sat outside talking about life and where she was heading. I excused myself for a minute to run inside and grab a warm drink when an employee started talking with me. I vaguely knew who he was through other friends and knew he had an amazing relationship with God. He told me he didn't mean to scare me but that as he was cleaning around the tables outside where I was sitting, he had been praying for me. He said that he couldn't stop looking at me because of a vision the Lord gave him of me. (I had earlier noticed him awkwardly staring at me outside and tried to ignore him) He proceeded to go into great detail of what he saw and I stood there bewildered at the story. I won't go into detail of what he said because it's something that is very dear to me. Something that's between God and I. But at the end he said to me that one of the greatest things God wants me to understand is that my prayers are heard, that my prayers were very precious to Him. After over a year of questioning if God was even listening to me... I never told anyone that I felt like I wasn't being heard. That moment wrecked me (and here I am tearing up again at the memory of that moment). After I received my coffee, I thanked the man with a big smile and went I went back outside to finish my conversation with the student. I held it all in as if nothing had just happened but inside I was questioning what just happened. By the time I got in my car to leave I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears began to stream down my face and all I could whisper was "thank you Daddy". I drove to youth group and proceeded to act as if nothing was wrong (like I had done since this whole thing began). This wasn't something I was ready to share yet. No, this was my moment with my God.
So here I am three and a half years later. My prayer life could still use some work (as every area of my life haha). And yes, I do still have anxiety attacks. Not near as severe as before, but, still there. Am I discouraged? NO! not at all! Want to know why? Because I finally chose to open my eyes. I needed to see that there is so much uncertainty in this world. I needed to see that God gave me a tender heart for a reason. I need to let my heart break for others and embrace the uncomfortable feeling that it gives me. But most importantly, I needed to see how important I am to God. Not because of what I do or how good I can be, but because I am his. I needed to learn to trust God with the unknown. I still need to do that. I still need to see that. I still have so much more to go. I may have anxiety until the day I die. But I'm ok with that because it not only brings me closer to God, but it PUSHES me closer to him.
As much as we talk about sharing your issues and struggles with others as to not "live life alone" I feel as if we sometimes overlook the beauty in relying on God alone for emotional support. I don't want you to think that I didn't tell anyone about what I was going through, because I did. Only a handful of people knew. But I knew they couldn't help me, I just wanted their prayers.Now, there's this quote that I've seen floating around the internet. It says something along the lines of "Have you prayed about it as much as you've talked about it?" Imagine how we could conquer things if we left our emotional healing to God. I know I plan on continuing to trust God with my emotional trials. Maybe try it next time, trust God with your emotions before consulting your peanut gallery. On my last note, I want to show you the scripture I keep at my desk as a reminder. Surround yourself with Scriptures, never lose sight of the words God gives us.
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