Thursday I cleaned house. I accepted the painful job of erasing old life lines, unhealthy anchors, and with every sweep of my hand, brushing away remnants of old dependencies, my heart beat a little bit faster. I felt God sitting next to me, encouraging me to take each step. I hesitated a few times, wanting to hold onto those soothing places, those reassuring moments, but God whispered to me, "Go on. You can do this."
I was surprised at the lack of panic I felt when I was done. There were a few tears, a visibly shaken hand. For all the years I had held on to these unhealthy ways of coping, letting go of them now wasn't as hard as I had thought it would be. I sighed deeply, got out my abnormal psychology school book, and focused my energy elsewhere. I was ok. I was successful. Job done.
Later that night while watching the movie SIGNS I felt the tremors start. I felt the anxiety pulsing through my arms and legs. My breathing quickened, my heart pounded, and nausea squeezed at my guts. I looked around wondering where this was coming from. My mind raced, picking up peices of my life as suggestions of the cause. The unknown future looming? The new life changes and responsibilities coming? Old hurts defending or old scripts rehearsing?
"I'm not good enough for these beautiful things God is bringing into my life. I'm gonna mess this up. I'm gonna make decisions that will cripple people I love. God can't mean for me to have these new and incredible blessings. This is me taking whatever I want. This is me selfishly running ahead of His plan. This is my foolishness, my overly emotional heart, not discerning truth, not using wisdom. I am making terrible mistakes in every direction."
Tears rushed down my face as I sat in the middle of my panic. My body shook with the pain of nerves exposed, raw and aching doubts. I wanted to believe in Ephesians 2:10...that I was God's "workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God has prepared in advance for us to do." I desperately wanted to hold on to the hope that God was answering years of longing, that He was taking my pain and using it for good. But in that moment, I felt like a six year old girl, afraid to speak the questions, unable to express the fear, trembling in her insecurities.
There was no Ativan to run to, no ease to grab. Instead, I held tight to trust and love, and allowed the panic to race. I wanted to hide in sleep. I wanted to run, lock myself in my room alone. I wanted to let shame win, swallow me up and be done with it. But even more, I wanted to be seen, known, accepted, exposed, held, loved.
Then the realization exploded in my mind: Just that morning, I had let go of a source of great comfort, a taste of desperately needed importance, an addiction of missing attention. I was shaking from the act of releasing these false fulfillments, shivering with the emptiness of my bleeding heart. It was a pretend world. It was a fake pleasure. But it was what I had held on to for years alone.
That morning my heart's desire was to follow my Lord's leading, open myself to his amazing future plan, let go of the past and grab on to the real and beautiful things in my present. I wasn't prepared to face the panicked feeling of loss, the terror of missing safety, of being set afloat in unknown, wild seas. The sobs escaping proclaimed the desperation in knowing that I had nothing more to grasp without risks, nothing more to soothe me without cost. I was opening myself to the forward motion God had in mind for me, but I was also facing the destruction and loss of my broken shelter of the past.
The trembling didn't stop with the admission. It increased. I felt foolish in my insistence to grow. I felt angry at my determination to erase. I felt completely panicked with the inability to go back and undo it all. I cried out to my God in frustration and anger for leading me in a direction that was healthy yes, but that was ripping open needs and fears I desperately did not want to face. What would happen now? Where would I hide? Where would I comfort myself?
"You don't need to hide anymore, Jenny. I have better, abundantly better things in store for you. I will heal this. I will hold you through the panic and I will bring you to the other side. I will restore lost years and lavish my grace on your tender heart. You don't need distractions or tastes of love. I will fill your cup to overflowing with pure and beautiful gifts of authentic love. I will never leave your side. Nothing can separate our hearts. You are mine. I have called you by name, My Dear Jenny. Let me heal this. Hide in my everlasting arms. Lean on my strength, my hope. Let me be your refuge, a strong tower to hide within. Your weeping may endure for this night, but Jenny, I will bring you joy in the morning..."
I fell asleep restless and raw, lying in the palm of His hand. I tossed and turned throughout the night fighting off the darkness that threatened with the glory that my Lord surrounded me with. I woke up to the sunrise of His reassurances, His salvation, ready to face the battles with the strong and sure Anchor of my God.
