I was at a worship service. We had just finished singing praises of worship to God. I love singing. Often times, including last night, I find myself trying to sign the words I know, partly to do something with my fidgeting hands, partly because it feels like another way to speak to God and I think it’s pretty fun. The speaker came up and told us he was going to speak about prophecy and how we, as young adult Christians on a college campus could prophecy. He told us we would model and practice this tonight. My anxiety increased.
I listened intently, understanding and feeling the words he was speaking. Yes, I have fear and shame but yes, God loves me so much. These were words I had heard before but I always love to hear again. I continued to remind myself that my relationship with God is different than everyone else’s. That is was unique to me. I didn’t have to nod along or say “Amen” audibly for God to know I was listening and learning. Then the speaker asked us to stand if we wanted to rid ourselves of our shame. My anxiety increased.
I didn’t stand. I honestly didn’t feel as though I needed to. I’ve stood in those type of moments before, but then I usually felt it was necessary. There were times that I didn’t, but I stood anyway. I don’t really know why, I think it just felt like the right thing to do. I prayed and listened as the speaker went around saying words of affirmation to those who were standing, ridding of them of their shame. I sat. I prayed. I didn’t feel like I needed to stand. I couldn’t pin point what shame God wanted me to rid myself of. But maybe God was calling me to stand anyway. I didn’t know why He would but I couldn’t decide. So I sat. And I prayed. My anxiety continued to increase.
The speaker told us to find a partner, someone we trusted. My anxiety increased.
He told us we would practice prophesying with our partner. They gave a demonstration and told us to try listening to God and speaking the words He gave to our partner. My anxiety increased.
My best friend looked at me and asked if I was okay. My anxiety increased.
Tears filled my eyes as I tried to articulate why I was struggling with this. Why I didn’t know if I could do it. And yes, my anxiety increased.
She looked at me and said what she felt God was calling her to say. She said Satan had my mind. She saw confusion in me. She saw me trapped, lost, under someone else’s control. The tears started to stream as my anxiety increased.
She begged me to pray to God. To truly believe and know with all my heart that He was the only one that could win this battle, that could give me back control of my mind. I had already been praying that prayer. If she saw this, if God wanted her to say it, I must be doing something wrong. Something must be wrong with me. My anxiety increased.
The speaker called us all back. He asked who felt encouraged by their partner’s prophesy. A tear slipped down my cheek. He asked who truly felt God speaking to them. Another tear came down. He asked who wanted to live in obedience to God, who wanted to speak the words He say, who wanted to prophesy. I raised my hand as three more tears fell and I took in shuttered breath. My anxiety decreased ever so slightly.
The night ended. We prayed and were dismissed. For the second time that night my best friend looked at and for a completely different reason asked if I was okay. I said my standard Christian answer “yes, I just need to be alone with God” and quickly squirmed through the crowd to reach the exit. Finally outside, alone, and freezing my anxiety sky rocketed. I started to run as the panic attack began.
I was mad. I was crying. I was struggling to breath as I yelled at God. Why would He do this to me. Why would He make me feel so small. Why would He let me look like a failure in front of my best friend. Why would He make me question every step of my faith that I’ve taken. Why couldn’t have the same appearance of faith as everyone else. Why couldn’t I just be like everyone else.
I threw myself down on the floor of the prayer room, sobbing, taking in short breaths, panicking. Then it hit me. God didn’t do any of that. Well, at least He didn’t do it for the intentions I was assuming. I needed to hear that. I needed a wake up call. I had been faking for so long, wondering why nothing would go right. I had been fighting off the obvious lies and believing the hidden ones, assuming it was my own brain defeating itself. But I’m a woman of God, I don’t intentionally defeat myself, Satan does.
The phrase “God, I give you permission” had been laid on my heart for a few weeks prior to last night. I had thought it, I had even prayed it. But nothing had been done with true intention, the true desire, the true need that I had last night. My anxiety had overtaken me. Satan’s words had consumed me. Even now as I write, those words loom over my head. But they’re not true. I know that. But God is the only one who can actually fight them. And win. As I sat, crouched in a corner of the prayer room in the basement of an empty building, I repeated those words. I cried out to God. I know I said other things to, but the main point was that I surrendered. I stopped fighting. I let God take over. I let Him win that battle I never could.
Anxiety in the Christian world is seen as a lack of faith. The answer I’ve always gotten has been “you need to pray more” or “trust in the freedom of God, He loves you and wants to set you free” or “when you actually submit yourself to Him, your anxiety will go away”. And although the intentions are pure, and the statements are true, anxiety is a tricky thing, and these phrases can sometimes increase the pain. When in the middle of the storm, sometimes all you hear is accusations, assumptions that you are failing, that you’re not doing enough, that you can never do enough. I need affirmation. I need love. Sometimes all I need is a hug and a prayer. God is powerful and He has he ability to end the pain through someone else’s thoughts and prayers. Advice doesn’t always have to include an action step.
God uses my anxiety to consistently remind me of my need for Him. Yes, I have panic attacks. Yes, doubts fill my mind and I loose control. And no, God hasn’t healed me. But none of this is because of my lack of faith. Every time, God has saved me from it. Every time I come back to Him. Every time God gives me peace and freedom. Even though He can, He hasn’t healed me, and that’s not my fault, it’s simply God’s plan.
I know I have faith in something much greater than myself. How? Because if I didn’t have faith in Jesus, I wouldn’t still be here today.
This is the harsh truth. Even last night, as I left a place of worship, my mind, the thoughts from Satan, told me it wasn’t worth it. They told me I couldn’t do it, there was no way out. They told me I should just find the end.
But I didn’t. Instead of finding some way to end my life, I found God. I cried out to Him. He saved me. My faith saved me. This isn’t the first time and, I don’t know for sure, but it may not be the last.
Satan attacks those who are strong in God. He does it in subtle ways so you don’t even realize its him. Anxiety is a part of me and I hadn’t even thought that he would try to destroy me even more through it. I also had never thought God would save me through it. But He has. And He did. And He does.
My relationship with God is different from everyone else’s. It’s unique. I don’t sit on my knees and pray for hours at a time. I don’t even always listen to “Christian” music. But God and I talk. He knows I love Him. I know He loves me. The anxiety comes and I pray. And sometimes I slip a little farther and hit a lower point so I can be reminded whose in control, of the One I need the most. God’s got a plan, He’s got me. He’s much bigger than my anxiety, even if I sometimes forget. I have special talents, gifts, and even obstacles that God designed just for me. So that I can further His Kingdom, in the special ways He calls me to.
I have faith. My anxiety is not a lack of faith. It’s the way God designed me. It’s how He shows himself to me. I have faith and I know God. And thankfully, God knows me. And He loves me, anxiety and all.
