anxiety – rhythms of grace

It’s been tempting not to write a post this week because so much happened in the last week that has given me major anxiety, and normally I would allow myself to just rest. But then I remembered how writing for me is rest. Processing my life through words is one of the most restful activities for me. And I’ve also set a goal for myself to post something every Monday, whether or not it’s perfect or “finished” by my own definition, so this is me holding myself accountable at the same time as sharing my life with you.

This past week we moved into our new apartment, the home I have been dreaming of for the past month and half, envisioning our little family budding up within these walls. And the moving process wasn’t even stressful at all like I thought it was going to be eight months pregnant, thanks to the generous aid of Mitch’s and my parents and brother…no, the stress came from a different source.

A musty smell in the living room.

If you’ve read any of my posts about my health, you might know that I have had chronic health issues since living in a mold-infested apartment two years ago. So a musty smell may not be a big deal for someone else, but for me it causes PTSD. And sends me spiraling into paranoia, fear, and anxiety.

I never anticipated having to deal with this again. This was the exact thing I wanted to avoid in the space where not only we are living but going to be raising a baby–a vulnerable, fragile being who definitely requires a non-toxic environment. To be honest, the fear was absolutely paralyzing for the first few days here and I felt my whole inner world crumbling to pieces.

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to avoid the things that have caused us immense pain and suffering in the past, they come back to haunt us. What do we do when this happens? How do we respond to these situations–to God?

I think my immediate response is anger and entitlement. I should not have to deal with this again. I have been through so much with my health; this is absolutely unacceptable. But the anger quickly dissipates into fear and I begin to question everything: I’m already so immunocompromised, how will I survive another exposure? How will this affect my baby? How will we ever afford remediation if it comes to that, God forbid it’s so toxic we have to move out and leave all our stuff behind?

The questions of why and how consume me. I’m thrust back into the dark and chaotic mental place where everything is up in the air and I don’t know where the ground is. My anxiety feeds my physical bodily responses, and I become an ultra-hypochondriac, wondering if my symptoms are related to mold in our apartment or if my own deteriorating psychological state is causing them at this point (most likely the latter). I don’t want to be back here, never thought I’d be back here. Especially now of all times, when the stakes feel so high as we are about to start our new family. Why would God allow this to happen again?

But as I am questioning and doubting and fearing, something inside of me is small and still and reassured. Someone is whispering to my soul that it’s all going to be okay. That even if the worst scenario happens and there is toxic mold in our apartment and we have to leave and get rid of all of our stuff–we will be okay. And I know this peace can only come from the Lord, because it is certainly not originating from me.

We will find out if we have mold in our apartment next week, and until then I am choosing to trust God through my fears. He knows what is best for me and my family, and He will take care of us.

Whatever fear and anxieties are consuming you, God knows what you are dealing with. Trust Him in the storm, not only once it’s over. He will come through for you, even if it’s not the way you wanted or planned.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
1 Peter 5:7

In this hopeful and beautiful time of year, when we celebrate Christ’s resurrection and the new life we have in Him, I can’t help but still feel broken. And not entirely like a new creation yet.

I wanted to do a post on the promise of Easter and the hope of spring using flowery and colorful language, but I’ll be honest: this past week has not been filled with hope for me. Instead it’s been filled with anxiety, doubt, health problems, and a keen sense of defeat.

I don’t feel the victory. I don’t feel the promise.

But the good news is: it doesn’t matter what I feel. It matters what He did.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
John 10:10

He came so that we could have life to the full.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like I am fully living. I feel like I give myself so many excuses not to live fully– my health issues, my fear of the future, lack of money, lack of opportunities… etc. But if I’m not living fully now, will I ever? If I don’t learn how to accept my circumstances as they are and trust that Jesus is with me in all of this, how will I ever be able to do that when things get harder, which they inevitably will?

I have been so convicted by my own attitude. By my own willingness to throw in the towel when life gets hard. I read stories of others who have gone through so much worse than me, and yet instead of encouraging me, these stories only add to my guilt.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I should be rejoicing and grateful for what I DO have.

But it’s like a disease- the disease of discontentment.

I’m not saying that it’s not okay to grieve and lament your hard circumstances. In fact, I’m saying the exact opposite- grieving before God is the only way to move through them. We are going through Lamentations at my church, hearing about the incredible grief Jeremiah endured and how he cried out before God. That was godly, and that was good.

I’m saying that we have to trust God in our circumstances, ESPECIALLY when they are difficult. It’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking we trust God when everything is going our way. Only when the trials come do we find out what our faith is really made of. And I’m finding out, once again, that mine is rather flimsy, and very much based on feelings.

Maybe the key to the abundant, full life is not things going perfectly. Maybe it’s living fully where we are, despite how we feel. And trusting that God is going to use all of these hard things for our good. And maybe we need to stop looking around at everyone else and thinking that they are living perfect lives, because that only compounds our own sorrow.

What if we are all struggling? What if there are secret pains and sorrows that we all carry, and yet we portray our lives on social media as if we we weren’t? I know I’m guilty of this. And it’s not wrong to post the good things, but watch what you allow your mind, and your heart, to consume. As I’ve allowed myself back onto social media, I’ve seen the ill effects on my mind again. I don’t even think we realize how much we’re influenced, how comparison is so engrained into our beings.

My life doesn’t look as good as hers, so therefore I am lacking. I am less than, inferior, a mess.

That’s my own inner dialogue, but it’s not what God is speaking to me. But if I don’t take the time to listen and work through my pain with Him, this is what I turn to. This is the easy fix and escape- although it’s not really an escape at all but rather a trap. And I find myself falling into it again, and again, and again.

I don’t think the answer is get rid of social media, but rather to use it wisely. To use it to connect with others, but never, ever, to compare. I have one life to live and living it fully looks different than it does for anyone else. We each are unique and have a subsequently unique story to live.

So, if you are struggling this Easter to feel the joy of what Jesus has done for you and feel like you may be too broken to fix, remember this: nothing in your life is accidental, and you are still invited to the full life right now, in the midst of it all. Though you can’t see it right now, He is working all things for your good, and if you partner with Him in it instead of resisting and questioning and doubting Him, you will see beautiful fruit. I’m in this with you. Life is hard and it probably won’t get easier, but we can let it change us for the better. We can let Him change us for the better. All He asks for is our willingness to trust Him.