Not My Story – Part 2

Broken places have a beginning in our lives. When we mix brokenness with our sin nature, we can get into big trouble down the road if left alone. I shared in my previous post that God was painfully stripping me of my idols. When I stopped fighting my circumstance with church, my eyes began to open to another issue that I was ignoring, and honestly, ashamed of. 

Anxiety. Oh boy, this was a hard one to face! It was deep. My pride and shame kept this one hiding in the shadows for a long time. Being a church girl, I knew what the bible said about anxiety, didn’t I? 

I had been battling anxiety for a long time and I knew how to keep it at bay by avoiding my triggers. But during this difficult time with church and loneliness, anxiety started to lock me up in a prison, one bar at a time. It began to manifest in areas of my social life and daily function. My triggers grew from being few to many.  

Unfortunately, I did not feel safe bringing this issue to anyone at church. At that time, I had not heard of these struggles spoken nor did I trust the process in how I could have been helped. I felt extremely fragile and I needed to feel secure in sharing where I felt deeply flawed.

Things started to quickly unravel.

One evening while my husband was on a trip, I woke up in the middle of the night with a panic attack that had me calling 911. The rest of that week I was furled up so tightly with anxiety, I could barely breathe, walk or talk. To sum it up, it felt like my sanity had met the line of insanity.

My doctor wanted me on daily meds but they left me feeling more neurotic. I went to a psychiatrist to seek help. He was a blessing to my soul. He said I was going to be OK but told me to take this little pill until my body leveled out. Oh I took it, and it certainly helped.

I found a therapist who dealt with anxiety. I joined a women’s bible study outside of my church, and friends from another church invited my hubby and I to join their small group. We joined. God provided support in places I least expected. 

Another place God profoundly helped me was at my YMCA’s book swap. He led me to a biography about the author’s path to healing from her mental breakdown and her time in a psychiatric hospital. She was transparent about her journey, and she became a companion in mine.

Once my anxiety leveled out, I began to pursue God hard. I no longer wanted to be strapped with this crippling anxiety.

One early morning, I was in my backyard crying out, “God WHY?! Why am I this way?” In the quietness of that still morning, I believe God allowed me to remember a time when I was a young girl. Remembering that time gave me understanding in this present moment.

Years ago, my family had experienced a loss from suicide. The ripple effect placed a deep fear of losing anyone else to that kind of tragedy. As a result, I developed a coping mechanism as a girl to hold it together, not rock the boat, and to make sure others were OK. This mode of operation was a pattern set into place for the coming years. I needed that coping mechanism then, I didn’t need it now.   

Coping mechanisms eventually break down. They can serve a purpose for a specific time of need but they are not meant to sustain us.

The fears and insecurities that shaped me as a girl turned into a sinful pattern later in my life. I was not trusting God fully with everything. Holding tightly and being overly protective of my life, my family and with every big and little thing gave me a false sense of control that was turning me into an anxious wreck and a walking ruin.   

I asked my Heavenly Father to heal this broken, painful part of my soul. He did. But what I had to do next was confess the sinful part this broken piece from childhood bred in to my heart, a fear I allowed to rule my life.

I began to loosen the tight grip I thought I had on my life and started to grasp on to my Heavenly Father: the God who is trust worthy, the God who loves me, the God who sacrificed His only son for me. I was learning a new level of trust in him. It was a healing and cleansing moment that one early morning. 

I would never have chosen to go through this challenging season. It was messy, hard, and very painful. But once I stopped fighting and started surrendering it all to God, he took over and did his work in my heart. God led me to a place of healing and forgiveness which brought wholeness and eventually deep joy into my heart.

I am still in process and have occasional anxious moments but I am learning to hand the pen over to my Heavenly Father. He is the author of our faith, is He not? 

“…fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith…” Hebrews 12:2

Today, we are attending the same church. God has opened up beautiful relationships which has taken on a new face of sisterhood sharing a sweet bond in Christ.

What this broken and sinful world has written on our pages, God can complete to a beautiful finish. It is a choice we have to hand the pen over to the author of our faith. A story that is truly His, not ours.

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed. This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles.” Psalms 34:4-6