I can tell you that I really don't get it. There are days that I wake up and I can just feel it welling inside of me, waiting for the opportune moment to pop out and ruin my day. There are days I wake up and I am already anxious, laying there in bed, not wanting the day to start because I know that the medication to calm me cannot be taken when I am at work. That only makes the situation worse. I try, as hard as I can on these days, to keep my head out of that anxious spot and in my work, but honestly it doesn't usually work. By the end of the day, I have had two or three anxiety pangs that keep me in that "fight or flight" mode for a couple of hours. I hate that. I can look at the face of the sweet children that I am there to take care of and only sometimes does it distract me enough to stop the anxiety. The other times I just end up changing eight diapers in fifteen minutes.
Sometimes I wish I could just cork the monster until I am off of work, but that does me no good, either. I end up not doing anything when I get home because my fears intensify after dark. I have been trying my best to work though this, to do things despite the anxiety I feel. It is hard when your gut instinct is telling you to get into bed and stay there where it is safe, or don't go to the store because it isn't safe, or go anywhere for that matter, when you know that God protects and takes care of you and your fate is in His hands, where it should be. I wish I could have my heart know what my head already does.
It is during these moments I get reminded exactly how helpless we really are in the light of saving ourselves from our sins. Praise be to God that Christ won me on the cross because I can't save myself from my sins, let alone the little monster in my life known as anxiety.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
If you weren't sure there was a stigma attatched...
While waiting in line at Wal*Mart, I found my eyes wandering to those magazines that remind you of a car wreck. You know that they are something you shouldn't waste your time with, but at the same time, you can't help but gawk at it. Afterward, you always wonder why you looked and feel a little disgusted. There were magazines about which stars are pregnant and which are suspected to be. There were headlines advising how to have the greatest love life, how to lose the most weight, how dress and look like the stars, and the latest gossip involving people's lives who have little to no impact on the average person. I think we might all get more out of the Weekly World News or whatever fake magazine might be on the racks today. However, one caught my eye (isn't there always one that does that!) This was about Britney Spears. It supposedly chronicled her "brave battle with mental illness". Honestly, I don't care about her "brave battle". What bothered me was how this was written to catch the eye. On the same magazine, the word "cancer" appeared, but the words with the biggest font and the most prominent place on the magazine were the "mental illness" words describing Ms. Spears.
The most prominent feature is usually what the magazines rely on to sell their magazines. So the average Joe walks up, looks at this, and gawks at how mental illness destroyed this star's life. Writing about the bizarre behavior, the magazine attempts to look as if it is showing the star rising from the depths of whatever her affliction is but instead it is another gossip column selling magazines at the expense of this star and quite possibly of all people suffering from some sort of mental illness. Disgusting doesn't quite cover it in my book. Regardless of how you feel about the star, her choices in life, and how she lives her life, there is no need to make the main point of the article about the horrors of mental illness, virtually scaring anyone from coming in contact with those who have a mental illness because they might all have a breakdown and act like she did. Granted, the right people got involved in her life to help her straighten it out, but she has been branded as a fragile, mentally ill person who probably will never be able to take care of herself. Although this is sometimes the case, it is by no means the prevailing prognosis.
Those of us who have a mental "illness" are no different than those who have heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and a multitude of other health issues. It all goes back to the fall of mankind in Genesis 3. Unfortunately, because people don't understand and are scared of the things that cannot be tested for by a blood or urine test combined with the fact that for centuries those with a mental illness obvious enough to need drastic help were locked up, it seems as if those who have any sort of mental disorder are looked upon with a strange combination of fear and distrust. In all likelihood, in your family you have a brother, sister, mother, father, cousin, child, spouse, aunt, uncle, or grandparent who had a mental disorder. Things like depression, anxiety, OCD, and a multitude of others are more common than you think. Think you are untouched? Think again. Most people are pretty good at hiding what is going on with them. Others chalk it up to personality. At any rate, instead of looking to sell more magazines, it might be prudent just to talk about how a star got their life back together and present the mental illness as one component, not THE component.
The most prominent feature is usually what the magazines rely on to sell their magazines. So the average Joe walks up, looks at this, and gawks at how mental illness destroyed this star's life. Writing about the bizarre behavior, the magazine attempts to look as if it is showing the star rising from the depths of whatever her affliction is but instead it is another gossip column selling magazines at the expense of this star and quite possibly of all people suffering from some sort of mental illness. Disgusting doesn't quite cover it in my book. Regardless of how you feel about the star, her choices in life, and how she lives her life, there is no need to make the main point of the article about the horrors of mental illness, virtually scaring anyone from coming in contact with those who have a mental illness because they might all have a breakdown and act like she did. Granted, the right people got involved in her life to help her straighten it out, but she has been branded as a fragile, mentally ill person who probably will never be able to take care of herself. Although this is sometimes the case, it is by no means the prevailing prognosis.
Those of us who have a mental "illness" are no different than those who have heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and a multitude of other health issues. It all goes back to the fall of mankind in Genesis 3. Unfortunately, because people don't understand and are scared of the things that cannot be tested for by a blood or urine test combined with the fact that for centuries those with a mental illness obvious enough to need drastic help were locked up, it seems as if those who have any sort of mental disorder are looked upon with a strange combination of fear and distrust. In all likelihood, in your family you have a brother, sister, mother, father, cousin, child, spouse, aunt, uncle, or grandparent who had a mental disorder. Things like depression, anxiety, OCD, and a multitude of others are more common than you think. Think you are untouched? Think again. Most people are pretty good at hiding what is going on with them. Others chalk it up to personality. At any rate, instead of looking to sell more magazines, it might be prudent just to talk about how a star got their life back together and present the mental illness as one component, not THE component.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Odd Teaching Tip
A very wise teacher once told me, "If you are frustrated with a trouble- maker student, the first thing you need to do is change your attitude towards the student." This is a very wise saying, especially in the daycare industry. I have a child in my room who is very high maintenance. He needs so much attention and so many hugs. This in and of itself isn't a bad thing, however, it can get hard when diapers need to be changed, snacks and lunches need to be put out, general cleaning of the room needs to happen, and the other children need attention as well. It can be very frustrating when the innocent behavior turns mischievous and the priorities of what needs to happen *now* are drastically changed.
It is equally hard to take a deep breath, take a step back, and see how you can incorporate what you are doing into something that the child can do with you to fill the need of attention the child has. It's so easy to punish and assume the situation is over instead of discipline followed by a change in action for the adult as well as the child. Granted, there are some things that cannot use a "helper". It's impossible to have a child help change another child's diaper, but by the same token, I can't expect the child to sit through fifteen minutes of diaper changes, either. Changes and compromises must be made to meet the needs of everyone in the room.
As I have started to do this, both change how I feel towards the child and how I deal with the child, I have found my days to be better and happier. The child is also happier and better when it comes to learning how to act in a social setting. Improvements have been made on both sides! It's been amazing to watch.
In our society, compromise isn't a word we like to use all that much. We would rather have others work to our wants and needs, compromising what they need first. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but this should not be a the prominent attitude in our dealings with others.
So, this reflection causes me to ask myself, is there anyone else in my life I need to have a change of attitude towards?
It is equally hard to take a deep breath, take a step back, and see how you can incorporate what you are doing into something that the child can do with you to fill the need of attention the child has. It's so easy to punish and assume the situation is over instead of discipline followed by a change in action for the adult as well as the child. Granted, there are some things that cannot use a "helper". It's impossible to have a child help change another child's diaper, but by the same token, I can't expect the child to sit through fifteen minutes of diaper changes, either. Changes and compromises must be made to meet the needs of everyone in the room.
As I have started to do this, both change how I feel towards the child and how I deal with the child, I have found my days to be better and happier. The child is also happier and better when it comes to learning how to act in a social setting. Improvements have been made on both sides! It's been amazing to watch.
In our society, compromise isn't a word we like to use all that much. We would rather have others work to our wants and needs, compromising what they need first. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but this should not be a the prominent attitude in our dealings with others.
So, this reflection causes me to ask myself, is there anyone else in my life I need to have a change of attitude towards?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Zoloft is MIA and the DS is Right Where It Should Be
Ewps. I missed a dose of Zoloft last night. I am sure the effect this has had on me is more mental in nature than it is physical. Upon seeing my pile of medication on the counter, still waiting to be consumed, I had a nice panic. What a way to start a Sunday morning! My pharmacy tech training told me that I should skip this dose and go back to my regular schedule this evening. My heart was pounding and my head was telling me that I would never make it through the Divine Service like this. My only completely clear thought on this was to take an Adavan. That ought to settle me down enough to make it through the morning. Granted, that stuff makes me tired and a little out of it, but it won't knock me out and it will allow me to appear "there" for anyone who didn't know about my internal turmoil.
While the medication was taking effect, I told Tim that I wasn't sure exactly how this was going to affect me in service. I wasn't sure if I would be completely with it to participate fully. I can't remember I took an Adavan and then went to church. He sounded a little concerned and asked me how I thought I would do. I joked and told him that I wouldn't be shouting "Amen" in the middle of the sermon or anything, but I was afraid of getting lost or not knowing what to do next because this stuff does slow down my thinking a bit. Thank the Lord, that was not the case! In fact, I was *there* probably more than I was through many church services. I didn't care that I was a pastor's wife and someone might be judging me for something. The words, chanting, and even hymns I knew by heart (Reformation Sunday is great for that- A Mighty Fortress is also a great comfort in times of anxiety!) I didn't fall behind, get lost, or forget something. I was there. I could also just receive. I wasn't a zombie though the service, though I was tired. I didn't just stiffly and unawares go through the motions. I did hear the words coming out of me second nature, Scripture flowing from my lips in unison with the church here on earth getting a small taste of what it must be like in heaven. The validity of the Sacrament of the Altar was not on how pious I tried to make myself before receiving, there it was: Christ's Body and Blood in with and under the bread and wine, given and shed for me, in the midst of anxiety muffled by medication. My anxiety, a sin against the First Commandment, was forgiven by my pastor in the stead of Christ. I came to church in the midst of an anxiety attack with nothing to give. I could only receive. Receive I did. It was good.
While the medication was taking effect, I told Tim that I wasn't sure exactly how this was going to affect me in service. I wasn't sure if I would be completely with it to participate fully. I can't remember I took an Adavan and then went to church. He sounded a little concerned and asked me how I thought I would do. I joked and told him that I wouldn't be shouting "Amen" in the middle of the sermon or anything, but I was afraid of getting lost or not knowing what to do next because this stuff does slow down my thinking a bit. Thank the Lord, that was not the case! In fact, I was *there* probably more than I was through many church services. I didn't care that I was a pastor's wife and someone might be judging me for something. The words, chanting, and even hymns I knew by heart (Reformation Sunday is great for that- A Mighty Fortress is also a great comfort in times of anxiety!) I didn't fall behind, get lost, or forget something. I was there. I could also just receive. I wasn't a zombie though the service, though I was tired. I didn't just stiffly and unawares go through the motions. I did hear the words coming out of me second nature, Scripture flowing from my lips in unison with the church here on earth getting a small taste of what it must be like in heaven. The validity of the Sacrament of the Altar was not on how pious I tried to make myself before receiving, there it was: Christ's Body and Blood in with and under the bread and wine, given and shed for me, in the midst of anxiety muffled by medication. My anxiety, a sin against the First Commandment, was forgiven by my pastor in the stead of Christ. I came to church in the midst of an anxiety attack with nothing to give. I could only receive. Receive I did. It was good.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Trust and Doubt
"When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?" Psalm 56:3
Boy, I wish I could live up to this. I worry about everything, from the clothes that I wear to the food that I eat, to the weight I need to loose. I trust, or I try to, but I falter. I can feel myself slipping away from that trust that I should have not that long after I say, "I trust you, God. Whatever you do is fine with me." I begin to think, "Well, what if this happens, then I'll have to deal with that." Or, "What if God thinks I can handle something that I know I'll fail at!" Soon, the snowball effect makes me go from mistrust to worry, worry to anxiety, and anxiety to depression and even more severe anxiety. Then comes the guilt that I didn't trust as I should followed by the anxiety that maybe I really don't have faith because I don't trust like the Bible says I should. The saddest thing is, this is a regular problem for me. I cannot count the number of times something simple has turned into a crisis of faith. It shouldn't, but then again, I shouldn't have anxiety either, so I guess I am even more in trouble.
It is usually then that I am reminded that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8) Christ died for my sin of not trusting Him (a First Commandment sin). There is more than that, though, because I am clothed in Christ in my Baptism. Not only does Christ's death cover my sin of not trusting, Christ trusts for me because I cannot. I can try. I can do my best. I can work to catch up to my holiness, but this side of the grave, I will not be able to do it fully. If I did, it would be against the First Commandment and I am back where I started.
So what can I do? Nothing? Not quite. The answer to what my "job" is lies in the First Article of the Apostle's Creed.
I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.
What does this mean?
I believe that God has made me and all creatures. He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my limbs, my reason and all my senses, and still preserves them. In addition, He has given me clothing and shoes, meat and drink, house and home, wife and children, fields, cattle, and all my goods. He provides me richly and daily with all that I need to support this body and life. He protects me from all danger and guards and preserves me from all evil. he does this all out of purely divine goodness and mercy without any merit or worthiness in me. For all this I ought to thank Him, praise Him, serve Him, and obey Him. This is most certainly true.
And when I fail that part, Christ covers that, too, praise be to God! Mortal man cannot take away all the gifts that God has given me, including the gift of forgiveness when I sin and not trust as I should. The Psalmist is right. There is nothing to be afraid of. Now, if I could just convince my heart what I know in my head... or perhaps leave that to the Holy Spirit. ;)
Boy, I wish I could live up to this. I worry about everything, from the clothes that I wear to the food that I eat, to the weight I need to loose. I trust, or I try to, but I falter. I can feel myself slipping away from that trust that I should have not that long after I say, "I trust you, God. Whatever you do is fine with me." I begin to think, "Well, what if this happens, then I'll have to deal with that." Or, "What if God thinks I can handle something that I know I'll fail at!" Soon, the snowball effect makes me go from mistrust to worry, worry to anxiety, and anxiety to depression and even more severe anxiety. Then comes the guilt that I didn't trust as I should followed by the anxiety that maybe I really don't have faith because I don't trust like the Bible says I should. The saddest thing is, this is a regular problem for me. I cannot count the number of times something simple has turned into a crisis of faith. It shouldn't, but then again, I shouldn't have anxiety either, so I guess I am even more in trouble.
It is usually then that I am reminded that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8) Christ died for my sin of not trusting Him (a First Commandment sin). There is more than that, though, because I am clothed in Christ in my Baptism. Not only does Christ's death cover my sin of not trusting, Christ trusts for me because I cannot. I can try. I can do my best. I can work to catch up to my holiness, but this side of the grave, I will not be able to do it fully. If I did, it would be against the First Commandment and I am back where I started.
So what can I do? Nothing? Not quite. The answer to what my "job" is lies in the First Article of the Apostle's Creed.
I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.
What does this mean?
I believe that God has made me and all creatures. He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my limbs, my reason and all my senses, and still preserves them. In addition, He has given me clothing and shoes, meat and drink, house and home, wife and children, fields, cattle, and all my goods. He provides me richly and daily with all that I need to support this body and life. He protects me from all danger and guards and preserves me from all evil. he does this all out of purely divine goodness and mercy without any merit or worthiness in me. For all this I ought to thank Him, praise Him, serve Him, and obey Him. This is most certainly true.
And when I fail that part, Christ covers that, too, praise be to God! Mortal man cannot take away all the gifts that God has given me, including the gift of forgiveness when I sin and not trust as I should. The Psalmist is right. There is nothing to be afraid of. Now, if I could just convince my heart what I know in my head... or perhaps leave that to the Holy Spirit. ;)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
A Tough Day
There are many days in my week where my job is absolutely amazing and I go home feeling happy and satisfied. Friday was not one of those days. It wasn't the kids, however, they were amazing. Unfortunately, it was my co-workers (thankfully not my co-teacher!). Don't ask me what happened, I won't go into it. Mostly, because that is not where this story lies.
The story is actually about power. The power to affect change. This is normally seen as a good thing. We are told at every graduation speech that we have the power to affect change and we should do so. This is definitely true but it has to be in the right context. Power has to be given before it can be wielded. Power does come in many forms. The kind I am referring to is the kind that affects people's opinions and the reputation of other people. The Bible has very specific words for it. We know it as the 8th Commandment.
You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. What does this mean? We should fear and love God so that we may not deceitfully belie, betray, slander, or defame our neighbor, but defend him, think and speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.
The ugly monster of gossip reared it's ugly head at my workplace. It's such a damaging monster wrapped in pretty packaging. It's covered with the phrases such as, "I am just speaking the truth," or "I am only telling you what I saw." Such a cover! With these words horrid damage is done. But when is it okay to talk about another person? When does it go from gossip to correcting the errors seen?
Just because you know the truth, doesn't mean you have the right to spread it around. Is this an error that should be brought to the authorities? Then do so if it is. If it is not, think of what you would have your neighbor do if your roles were reversed. Would you like everyone to know your slights and sins? (Matthew 7:12)
Think on these words for a moment from Martin Luther about the 8th Commandment:
"When they know about a slight offense committed by another person, they carry it into every corner. They are delighted and tickled to stir up others' displeasure, just as swine delight to roll themselves in the dirt and root in it with the snout. This is nothing other than meddling with God's judgment and office and pronouncing sentence and punishment iwth the most severe verdict." (Large Catechism 267)
Perhaps after looking to Luther's Large Catechism, it is better not to say anything except to those who judge by vocation the righteness of the actions you have witnessed. Such vocations are given to the bosses, law enforcement officials, lawmakers, etc. This is not an exclusive list, but the idea comes across clear. If this vocation you have been given by God does not include the responsibility of judging and dolling out punishment, it is better to keep quiet about those sins you witness unless it becomes a Fourth Commandment responsibility.
God forgive me where I have failed to do this and help me to catch up to my holiness given to me by Christ on the cross for the forgiveness of my sins.
The story is actually about power. The power to affect change. This is normally seen as a good thing. We are told at every graduation speech that we have the power to affect change and we should do so. This is definitely true but it has to be in the right context. Power has to be given before it can be wielded. Power does come in many forms. The kind I am referring to is the kind that affects people's opinions and the reputation of other people. The Bible has very specific words for it. We know it as the 8th Commandment.
You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. What does this mean? We should fear and love God so that we may not deceitfully belie, betray, slander, or defame our neighbor, but defend him, think and speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.
The ugly monster of gossip reared it's ugly head at my workplace. It's such a damaging monster wrapped in pretty packaging. It's covered with the phrases such as, "I am just speaking the truth," or "I am only telling you what I saw." Such a cover! With these words horrid damage is done. But when is it okay to talk about another person? When does it go from gossip to correcting the errors seen?
Just because you know the truth, doesn't mean you have the right to spread it around. Is this an error that should be brought to the authorities? Then do so if it is. If it is not, think of what you would have your neighbor do if your roles were reversed. Would you like everyone to know your slights and sins? (Matthew 7:12)
Think on these words for a moment from Martin Luther about the 8th Commandment:
"When they know about a slight offense committed by another person, they carry it into every corner. They are delighted and tickled to stir up others' displeasure, just as swine delight to roll themselves in the dirt and root in it with the snout. This is nothing other than meddling with God's judgment and office and pronouncing sentence and punishment iwth the most severe verdict." (Large Catechism 267)
Perhaps after looking to Luther's Large Catechism, it is better not to say anything except to those who judge by vocation the righteness of the actions you have witnessed. Such vocations are given to the bosses, law enforcement officials, lawmakers, etc. This is not an exclusive list, but the idea comes across clear. If this vocation you have been given by God does not include the responsibility of judging and dolling out punishment, it is better to keep quiet about those sins you witness unless it becomes a Fourth Commandment responsibility.
God forgive me where I have failed to do this and help me to catch up to my holiness given to me by Christ on the cross for the forgiveness of my sins.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Learning to Love Jesus
The Sunday activities have come and gone for this week. I have gone to the Divine Service, Bible study, even partook of the ever needful coffee hour without feeling too uncomfortable about being in my own skin. This morning, there was a helicopter crash not to far away from our pastor's house. The family in the house was saved, but the passengers in the chopper were killed. What a tragic way to begin a Sunday, I thought to myself. I wasn't the only one. Another member asked Pastor during Bible class, "I know that there is sin in the world which is the cause of the horrible things that happen, but why does God allow it in the first place?"
When I ask Tim this, sometimes I get a long answer. One that causes me to think deeply but I usually arrive at the same place that he does in the end through his gentle guiding. Pastor wasn't so kind. His response: "So you can learn to love Jesus." Honestly, (sorry, Pastor, if you are reading this!) I had a hard time listening to the rest of the response as he explained this. My first thought was, "What type of a God do we have that makes us struggle and bleed and hurt to make us love Him? Surely Pastor couldn't have meant that!" What about my anxiety disorder? The one that causes me to doubt Him so severely it makes me tremble with panic; the one that causes me to doubt my own salvation- can that be the cross I bear that causes me to love Him more? My fears make me feel like I love Him less than others because I can't simply trust him unwavering like the Bible states!
Writing this blog has caused me to speak more boldly about my disorder in the context of church. I asked very point blankly how God could use my disorder to cause me to love him more, when the fears and doubts don't just annoy me, at times they consume me. Pastor guided me (yes, I paid more attention this time) to remember something that I had either forgotten or never learned completely. All to often, Christians forget their relationship to God. It's more like, "Let's Make a Deal". "Well, God, I know I have messed up and stuff, but if you will just save me, I promise I'll do better." Figuring that we have to give something to get something, we try to barter our way into God's good graces. The bartering also has our best interest at heart. What is the minimum we can do that will allow us to be in God's graces and still allow us to retain some dignity? After all, we don't want to come out as beggars.
That is all I am, though. A beggar. If I ever try to forget that, my anxiety disorder will bring it to the front of my mind. I can just hear the thoughts now. "Do better, you said? Yeah. That pet sin right there, if you were going to do better, it wouldn't be an issue. Look at you! In that muck again! Yeah, see if God will save you now after that. You thought you were really smart making that deal. You couldn't hold up your end of the bargain if your life depended on it. Oh, wait, it does! Game over, you're damned."
I got nothing to offer God. I can't stop sinning, no matter how much I want to. I've tried. I failed. It was not a pretty sight. Even if I did have something to offer God, it would be worthless. The moment I offered it to God, I'd be putting myself before God, which then breaks the First Commandment, and there I go again, not upholding my end of the bargain. Game over.
In the midst of a panic attack or even an anxiety attack, when I just cannot calm down, I have this cute little pill. It's maybe a millimeter across. Swallowing that will calm me down in twenty to thirty minutes. How interesting that it takes something outside of myself to calm me down. In the middle of the attack, I can do nothing. Sometimes I cannot even get my own medication! I become a beggar. Looking to my husband to give me what I need, something outside of myself has to swoop down to my rescue. I have got nothing to offer.
In the muck of my sin, there is nothing that I can do to make me holy. In the fullness of time, Christ died on the cross for me for the forgiveness of my sins. When there was nothing I could do, Christ came down and did it for me. I look to Christ for what I need and He provides it; the Body and Blood in, with, and under the bread and wine, the washing and rebirth in my Baptism back in June of 1980, the forgiveness of sins through my pastor speaking the words of Absolution. These aren't things I do! These are things that are outside of myself being given to me just like those times when I need the medication for my anxiety.
I guess Pastor was right. God gave me personally a picture of how Christ moves to save His creation in my disorder- tailor made for me while I bear the cross given to me in this veil of tears that points me back to Word and Sacrament. My disorder helps me learn to love Jesus even more.
When I ask Tim this, sometimes I get a long answer. One that causes me to think deeply but I usually arrive at the same place that he does in the end through his gentle guiding. Pastor wasn't so kind. His response: "So you can learn to love Jesus." Honestly, (sorry, Pastor, if you are reading this!) I had a hard time listening to the rest of the response as he explained this. My first thought was, "What type of a God do we have that makes us struggle and bleed and hurt to make us love Him? Surely Pastor couldn't have meant that!" What about my anxiety disorder? The one that causes me to doubt Him so severely it makes me tremble with panic; the one that causes me to doubt my own salvation- can that be the cross I bear that causes me to love Him more? My fears make me feel like I love Him less than others because I can't simply trust him unwavering like the Bible states!
Writing this blog has caused me to speak more boldly about my disorder in the context of church. I asked very point blankly how God could use my disorder to cause me to love him more, when the fears and doubts don't just annoy me, at times they consume me. Pastor guided me (yes, I paid more attention this time) to remember something that I had either forgotten or never learned completely. All to often, Christians forget their relationship to God. It's more like, "Let's Make a Deal". "Well, God, I know I have messed up and stuff, but if you will just save me, I promise I'll do better." Figuring that we have to give something to get something, we try to barter our way into God's good graces. The bartering also has our best interest at heart. What is the minimum we can do that will allow us to be in God's graces and still allow us to retain some dignity? After all, we don't want to come out as beggars.
That is all I am, though. A beggar. If I ever try to forget that, my anxiety disorder will bring it to the front of my mind. I can just hear the thoughts now. "Do better, you said? Yeah. That pet sin right there, if you were going to do better, it wouldn't be an issue. Look at you! In that muck again! Yeah, see if God will save you now after that. You thought you were really smart making that deal. You couldn't hold up your end of the bargain if your life depended on it. Oh, wait, it does! Game over, you're damned."
I got nothing to offer God. I can't stop sinning, no matter how much I want to. I've tried. I failed. It was not a pretty sight. Even if I did have something to offer God, it would be worthless. The moment I offered it to God, I'd be putting myself before God, which then breaks the First Commandment, and there I go again, not upholding my end of the bargain. Game over.
In the midst of a panic attack or even an anxiety attack, when I just cannot calm down, I have this cute little pill. It's maybe a millimeter across. Swallowing that will calm me down in twenty to thirty minutes. How interesting that it takes something outside of myself to calm me down. In the middle of the attack, I can do nothing. Sometimes I cannot even get my own medication! I become a beggar. Looking to my husband to give me what I need, something outside of myself has to swoop down to my rescue. I have got nothing to offer.
In the muck of my sin, there is nothing that I can do to make me holy. In the fullness of time, Christ died on the cross for me for the forgiveness of my sins. When there was nothing I could do, Christ came down and did it for me. I look to Christ for what I need and He provides it; the Body and Blood in, with, and under the bread and wine, the washing and rebirth in my Baptism back in June of 1980, the forgiveness of sins through my pastor speaking the words of Absolution. These aren't things I do! These are things that are outside of myself being given to me just like those times when I need the medication for my anxiety.
I guess Pastor was right. God gave me personally a picture of how Christ moves to save His creation in my disorder- tailor made for me while I bear the cross given to me in this veil of tears that points me back to Word and Sacrament. My disorder helps me learn to love Jesus even more.
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