My entire perspective of what God is capable of has been turned on its head in the last 6 months. I’ve always believed He was capable of huge things, but now I’ve SEEN it with my own eyes. I’ve seen the lost walk in newness of life. I’ve seen the lame walk. I’ve seen the blind see. And yet the brokenness in my own life was never something I thought could be healed.
My senior year of high school I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. It was like my brain had rewired itself from the optimistic peppy girl I was to a pessimistic scared human. Occasionally I would get my anxiety “under control” long enough to do something I wanted to. Like work at a summer camp or go on the world race (lol). But I wasn’t so much controlling the anxiety as I was putting a bandaid over a gaping wound hoping nobody would see the blood. And that’s how I started the race.
On the outside I pretty much had it together but inside my anxiety was waging war against literally everything I as a believer hold as truth. I woke up every morning with a play by play of the worst things that could possibly happen to myself or others that day. Panic began to creep into my decisions and lies started digging trenches between me and my teammates and squad mates.
The running mantra in my head became
Anxiety-“they see me. They know I’m here. I’m like a pariah. They can’t possibly love you when I’m here. You are broken and gross because of me and I won’t ever leave. Just accept it now. You don’t belong around whole people.”
And I believed every word. No matter the battles I won or the growth I made in other areas over the first 5 months of the race I always came back to the fact that I was too broken to actually be lovable.
I let my team into this struggle a little bit end of month 4, but the prayers I asked for were temporary…more bandaids. We would pray, I would be peaceful for a couple of hours, and then I was right back where I’d been.
And then month 6 happened.
During a conversation with a teammate she said that while praying for me God had urged her to ask me if there was something I was holding onto and still needed to give to God. I’m like, dude, I don’t think there’s anything left. I’ve given it all to Him. But, I earnestly sought the Lord on the matter. After a couple days of silence I was like “alright. I must be good. Phew. “.
Hah. Funny.
During team time worship one day God quietly whispered “anxiety. You hold onto anxiety like a banner over yourself”.
Y’all. What?? He was right (obviously). I did. I hated anxiety, wanted it gone, but at the same time I held it like a badge of honor. Without realizing it I was saying “look at how I serve you even though I have anxiety” or “see? I trust you even though you have allowed me to suffer from this for so long.” I couldn’t overcome anxiety because I wasn’t ready to let go, I wasn’t ready to truly lay it at the fathers feet.
I promise this next section is still connected. Just bear with me for a hot sec.
Most of us have a secret place with the Lord. Somewhere we go with Him that is just ours. It wasn’t until the race that I had words for what that was, but my entire Christian life it has been the same secret place. It’s never changed. Until this month.
When I was really little my mom had this huge fabulous garden that I loved. On the far corner of it she helped me create this “building” out of plants. We had sunflowers as the walls, wildflowers as a pop of color, and various vines to climb and make the roof. I loved it. I spent hours in my plant fort. It was safe and it was mine. And that has became my new secret place with The Lord.
I began to seek God on why. What was so special about THAT place? And then it hit me. It isn’t just that place that is my secret place with Him. It is that time and place. That carefree, adventurous, brave, and free little girl in that garden is my safe place. That child is still how God views me.
Me, before heartbreak, before anxiety, before poor choices, before the world started breaking off pieces of me, and before I believed I was too broken for His love.
In that moment I chose to see myself the way He sees me-a beautiful child peacefully desiring to spend time with Him.
God has been waiting for me. Waiting for me to finally be ready to lay down my fears at His feet. He is the God of healing, but He doesn’t just specialize in physical things like ankles, hips, and eyes. He can heal anxiety just as easily as He can say “your sins are forgiven”.
And He did.
As my team prayed for me and over me I literally felt the shackles falling from me. My mind has been set free and I’m no longer a puppet controlled by anxiety.
God has begun the long process of rewiring my brain to trust Him rather than revert to anxiety. But, the beautiful thing is that He is going to be right there with me the whole time. And let me tell you, He is a way better companion than anxiety ever was.
