From Captivity to Freedom
So...Pedro still smokes. And college is still elusive. And my life is kind of at a standstill. I've been looking for things to write about, and on the surface there are few.
I realized the other day that God has given me a story to encourage others. He is penning my life to bring Himself glory and draw others to Himself. I thought that today, while in this lull without much to write, I would share a part of my story with you. This is the story of how God redeemed me in a struggle with anxiety.
Once upon a time, I was absolutely crippled by fear. It started when I was around eight or nine. I'm not completely certain what caused it; there are many factors that probably contributed. My dad was in the process of switching jobs. We had moved multiple times in a short period, and one of those moves had been a six month period of living away from my dad so he could work off our debt. My siblings and I had switched from public school to home schooling. Shortly after all this, my mom had my littlest brother. They were tumultuous times, full of stresses for a sensitive soul like me.
The root of the problem, though, truly, was probably spiritual warfare. My dad was becoming a pastor and Satan didn't like that. So he struck our family and it was hard.
Regardless of the causes, I was assaulted by irrational fears and crippling anxiety. I worried incessantly about such unlikely things as purposely injuring my siblings or throwing up for no reason. As I grew, rationality lessened some of these fears, but they were still present. I learned to live with them. I developed unhealthy coping mechanisms. I was surviving, even enjoying life most of the time, but not living the full life Christ intended for me.
As it turned out, it had to get worse before it got better. Come January, I had two big anxiety attacks in one week--one while leading worship at church and one at youth group. So I took a break from the worship team and youth group. I skipped the youth retreat that year and cowered inside, hardly leaving the house without my parents. This time, there was no living with it. Something had to give.
Just in time, God provided help. For the first time, I started going to a Christian counselor. Her name was Melissa and my one regret about going to her was that our relationship was pretty much strictly professional. She was this amazing Christian woman who had walked the path of anxiety herself. Thinking back, I am astounded by her ability to offer advice in a gentle, positive way, even when it was hard stuff. She was a gift from God.
With the help of Melissa and loved ones, I started to heal. Then in May and June, disaster struck. We lost an extremely close friend, and my mom, who was kind of my security blanket, went to care for our friend's wife for several weeks. Then, out of the blue, one of my best friends was diagnosed with cancer. A few weeks later, my brother went into the hospital with a leaking and infected appendix. I had to stare straight into loss and pain, and there was no running away.
You'd think this would make the anxiety worse, but it helped. God recycled trajedies into healing. I went back to youth group and deeply connected with the people there. Going out became infinitely easier. I started willingly taking steps out of my comfort zone.
The one area I didn't reclaim was the stage. I was terrified that getting back on the worship team would lead to a repeat of the first anxiety attack. But almost exactly a year ago, I took a songwriting class at my church's art and music camp. For thirty seconds at the end of the week, I stood on a stage and performed the song I had written.
Three weeks later, I was auditioning for a play and learning that I loved performing. More importantly, I was learning that I loved the freedom Jesus offered.
Since then, I have been growing exponentially. I still struggle often, but I am on my way. I'm learning healthy coping skills. I'm growing closer to the Lord. I am better understanding the freedom Jesus offers and finding new reasons to love Him because He made me free.
Maybe you are still on the road to recovery. Maybe you've never struggled this way. But everyone struggles sometimes. May this story encourage you to hope in the God who works life from death and beauty from ashes. If He can do it for me, He can do it for you.
I realized the other day that God has given me a story to encourage others. He is penning my life to bring Himself glory and draw others to Himself. I thought that today, while in this lull without much to write, I would share a part of my story with you. This is the story of how God redeemed me in a struggle with anxiety.
Once upon a time, I was absolutely crippled by fear. It started when I was around eight or nine. I'm not completely certain what caused it; there are many factors that probably contributed. My dad was in the process of switching jobs. We had moved multiple times in a short period, and one of those moves had been a six month period of living away from my dad so he could work off our debt. My siblings and I had switched from public school to home schooling. Shortly after all this, my mom had my littlest brother. They were tumultuous times, full of stresses for a sensitive soul like me.
The root of the problem, though, truly, was probably spiritual warfare. My dad was becoming a pastor and Satan didn't like that. So he struck our family and it was hard.
Regardless of the causes, I was assaulted by irrational fears and crippling anxiety. I worried incessantly about such unlikely things as purposely injuring my siblings or throwing up for no reason. As I grew, rationality lessened some of these fears, but they were still present. I learned to live with them. I developed unhealthy coping mechanisms. I was surviving, even enjoying life most of the time, but not living the full life Christ intended for me.
As it turned out, it had to get worse before it got better. Come January, I had two big anxiety attacks in one week--one while leading worship at church and one at youth group. So I took a break from the worship team and youth group. I skipped the youth retreat that year and cowered inside, hardly leaving the house without my parents. This time, there was no living with it. Something had to give.
Just in time, God provided help. For the first time, I started going to a Christian counselor. Her name was Melissa and my one regret about going to her was that our relationship was pretty much strictly professional. She was this amazing Christian woman who had walked the path of anxiety herself. Thinking back, I am astounded by her ability to offer advice in a gentle, positive way, even when it was hard stuff. She was a gift from God.
With the help of Melissa and loved ones, I started to heal. Then in May and June, disaster struck. We lost an extremely close friend, and my mom, who was kind of my security blanket, went to care for our friend's wife for several weeks. Then, out of the blue, one of my best friends was diagnosed with cancer. A few weeks later, my brother went into the hospital with a leaking and infected appendix. I had to stare straight into loss and pain, and there was no running away.
You'd think this would make the anxiety worse, but it helped. God recycled trajedies into healing. I went back to youth group and deeply connected with the people there. Going out became infinitely easier. I started willingly taking steps out of my comfort zone.
The one area I didn't reclaim was the stage. I was terrified that getting back on the worship team would lead to a repeat of the first anxiety attack. But almost exactly a year ago, I took a songwriting class at my church's art and music camp. For thirty seconds at the end of the week, I stood on a stage and performed the song I had written.
Three weeks later, I was auditioning for a play and learning that I loved performing. More importantly, I was learning that I loved the freedom Jesus offered.
Since then, I have been growing exponentially. I still struggle often, but I am on my way. I'm learning healthy coping skills. I'm growing closer to the Lord. I am better understanding the freedom Jesus offers and finding new reasons to love Him because He made me free.
Maybe you are still on the road to recovery. Maybe you've never struggled this way. But everyone struggles sometimes. May this story encourage you to hope in the God who works life from death and beauty from ashes. If He can do it for me, He can do it for you.
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