The Avoidance Of Pain

"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!'" Rm 8:15

The last time I blogged was back in October. There's a reason for that.

If you know me, you know that I am a woman of struggle. I've always been someone to actively engage in bettering myself, in introspection, in trying to get the best out of life. I feel a lot, but I had never let it get the best of me.

To get really personal, really quickly, around Christmas time last year, my feelings finally did get the best of me. I got slammed with the biggest onslaught of anxiety I've ever experienced in my entire life. A kind that stuck around for weeks--complete with a constant, gnawing stomachache, feeling like I was in a fog, detached from myself and from others, memory loss, the inability to concentrate and generally just feeling like I was stuck in a bad dream. It felt like I had been transported to a kind of hell. If you've ever experienced anxiety, you know it literally feels like you've been sucked out of the present and plopped down into a wasteland of swirling fear and dread that you feel like you have zero control over. I never saw it coming. It just happened, without my permission; it was entirely out of my control. This was extremely hard for me to accept, as I spent every day trying to numb the fear, squelch the thoughts and relieve the pain. I tried everything to get unstuck--you name it, i tried it. Because that's how I'm wired--I have a need to restore, to fix, to make things well again. With anxiety, I couldn't; I was stuck, and I had exhausted every attempt at getting better.

It's been months now since that happened and the reality is, I still carry this anxiety with me every day. It's not nearly as intense--but behind every single thing I do, anxiety is nagging at my heels, screaming at me worst case scenarios, and reasons to be afraid. But thank God that He has been speaking to me amidst the chaos of my emotions and thoughts. From His Word, as well as from wisdom from counselors, authors and friends who know much more about anxiety than I do, there have been a few truths that have stuck out to me and kept me afloat in this process.

1. The avoidance of pain will make things worse. 
This is a truth I've heard before, but never have I been forced to apply it to my life more than in this season. I have always thought that I really do have control over every feeling and thought that I have. When feelings and thoughts come up that I don't like, I frantically fix them--troubling thoughts, worries, unpleasant feelings--I get rid of them. I avoid feeling "bad". My anxiety grew out of control because I continually shoved down all of my "bad" feelings, which made them silently grow into monsters. When they finally reared their ugly heads, I was so used to repressing it all that I was jarred and shocked that I even had the capacity to hold so much crippling fear inside of me.

 "It is better to go to the house of mourning

than to go to the house of feasting,

for this is the end of all mankind,

and the living will lay it to heart.

Sorrow is better than laughter

for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.

The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, 

but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." 

Ecclesiastes 7:4

2. If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always got.
We've all heard this one before. And it packs a punch when you're faced with a struggle you've carried your entire life. What have I always done? Avoided. Repressed. Fixed. A change in my thinking and my actions needed to take place, or I would continue in the same patterns.

"I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect." Romans 12:1-2

3. Chasing "feeling good" will keep you stuck.
Anxiety does not feel good--in fact, it is highly unpleasant. So are other things in life--choosing to love someone you don't like, choosing to serve, eating well when you want to eat like crap...basically doing anything that requires you to make a conscious action that is the antithesis of what you are currently feeling. Living my entire life to maintain a sense of "feeling good" really backed me into a corner that blocked out anything in my life that made me "feel bad". And I am now seeing that those things that "make me feel bad" are a lot of the time things that I truly need in order to change and grow--to get unstuck.

  

"The discerning sets his face toward wisdom,

but the eyes of a fool are on the ends of the earth." 

Proverbs 17:24

Since my anxiety set in, I have been actively trying to apply these truths to my day-to-day, to transform my patterns of thinking that have, over the years, caused me to operate in a very small framework of thinking. I feel as if I'm at a crossroads every day. Do I choose the easy path of feeling good, or do I choose the difficult path of getting better? Every day is different--I don't always make the best choices. But my choices are adding up to my future, and that is a scary truth that always jumpstarts me into action. I create my own destiny and future. I'm not alone--God is with me, ever nudging and whispering, helping me to make the best choices. But my life is in my own hands. God is not absent from my life, even though pain is highly present. God is taking me down a new path, one of painful growth and restoration. And this time, I'm not just talking about it--I'm actually doing it.

So you think you can dance--at CHURCH?

It's interesting how much I hear everyone give this lady crap that goes to my church. I guess I should include myself with 'everyone' because I give her crap, too. She dances during worship. But she doesn't just sway back and forth or jump up and down, even--no, she lurches and jerks around. Sometimes, during an exceptionally powerful song, she looks like she might have a seizure. This lady doesn't even have the decency to stand in the back where no one can see her--she stands in the very front row, of all places. It doesn't matter where I look when I'm singing, somehow I can always see her arm flailing or her hair bouncing. I'm not the only one who notices, because I've seen people glance at her. I've heard people whispering. Actually, I've only heard one person say anything good about her dancing, and it was from a person that's always able to see Jesus in anyone and everyone, so I shouldn't be surprised that he was the exception to this rule. Anyway, today I was standing again during worship in the center and there she was again, a few rows ahead of me--bobbing back and forth with her eyes closed, looking lost in the music, while the bassist on stage kept glancing over at her odd movements. My normal reaction to this is to roll the eyes of my heart and try to will myself out of judgment and animosity. But today I didn't feel any animosity or judgment toward this woman. I felt a weird sense of longing. Because me and this lady are complete opposites, in the worship sense. This lady lets loose and is completely fearless in her adoration of The Lord, which is as it should be. Me? My heart twists with fear and anger at every corporate worship time, wondering why the only reaction to God I can muster is completely stoic. Worshiping in solitude, I have no problem with. But when it comes to corporate worship...I'm like ice. Now, if there's one quality you can pinpoint about this dancing woman without even talking to her, it's this--fearlessness. Nothing is stopping this woman. I mean think about it--if fear is one of the major roots of depravity, then imagine what could happen if you carried fearLESSness as a prominent character trait. You could transcend a lot of things that most people would never overcome. I imagine this woman does.
I kept watching this lady more and more, and as I was watching I began thinking about David and the well known story of him dancing in the street for The Lord. In 2 Samuel 6, David beings dancing before the Lord and simultaneously, his subjects. David is so enthralled and enamored by his Lord that he's dancing like a complete undignified idiot--one of those 'special' ones. One of those people that you see and then immediately turn away from. Or start picking at your nails. Or start praying they don't come alongside you and pull you into a dance with them. Or turn to the person next to you and crack a joke about how ridiculous they are. You all know the type of dancer I mean. During David's display for the Lord, verse 16 says, "Michal the daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart." She then comes down to the street and pulls David aside and says to him, '"How the king of Israel distinguished himself today! He uncovered himself today in the eyes of his servant's maids as one of the foolish ones shamelessly uncovers himself!"' David replies, "'It was before the Lord, who chose me above your father and above all his house, to appoint me ruler over the people of the Lord, over Israel; therefore I will celebrate before the Lord."
David's reaction was wise and soft, knowing that his dancing was for no one else but One person. What did he have to worry about? His treasure lies somewhere else.

Two things from all of this.
A. What if we could live without fear, with the notion that this life is about something much bigger than ourselves? Holy crap, this life is NOT about us. What if we lived that way? Then maybe we could make eternal, lasting and selfless change for the flicker of time we're on Earth.
B. If we're ever to do anything radical or God breathed, we have to be willing to risk people not liking us or calling us things behind our backs. As ugly as that is, and as much as it shouldn't happen, it does. It happens because other people's fearlessness flares up and exposes our own fears. That's why we hate it. That's why I judge that lady and that's why you do, too.

I want to start moving away from all this stuff--all this judgment and fear, and everything that stems from it. Because it simply doesn't matter. There is no excuse for me to judge or trash talk a lady who dances in worship if I call myself a child of Jesus. There is no excuse for me to harbor fear of man during worship if I carry the mark of a perfect and fearless savior. I want to begin to worry about things that actually matter. I want to know Jesus so deeply that my cares and woes being to align with his, causing me to live and act fearlessly, sacrificially, selflessly and lovingly. O' to be free of what imprisons us.

I wonder if this lady knows exactly what her dancing stirs up--not only in the pleased eyes of her Father, but in the people at church who are ever observing her.

God's Deafening Silence

On the threshold of change and transformation, the silence of God can sometimes be deafening.

Our God never says too much. He is perfect in that he always says just enough. In our struggles, in our desperations, we run to him pleading for answers and begging to be spared from trials. Each time we fall to his feet crying out our frustations, God nods knowingly, listens intently with patience and love, and then sits back...and is still. Why does that frustrate us more than anything? Instead of throwing out answers, he asks questions. Sometimes, he doesn't even do that. We're left in the dark, we're left without conclusion. The only conclusion we can draw is our own. Sometimes all we have in God's silence are bits and pieces of encouraging scripture, or hopefully the warmth of His Spirit. But sometimes, not even that.
Recently I was put in a situation that absolutely terrified me. It was a situation that depended on my performance. I had no idea how to carry out the task I was appointed, simple as it was. I let my fear consume me, I let my emotions grab hold of me and I was nearly throwing up in anticipation of how much I knew I was going to fail. I was praying diligently for God's answers. For the relief from the anxiety and fear. For God to fix everything for me. I've prayed for God's relief before, but this time, my plea was desperate. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. But still, irrationally enough, I was absolutely overcome by my own fear and I had zero left in me to do what I was asked to do. But I couldn't back out of it. So, I told God that I absolutely needed him to come through because I was empty and void of anything to offer. I walk up to do my thing. I open my mouth and--to my surprise--words of eloquence flow out with nary a stutter. Everything made perfect sense and truth was flowing out of me that I never knew was inside. On top of that, the fear was zapped away.
What happened?
God moved.
Why?
I continually avoid every thing I can't control, every thing that makes me afraid, every thing that I could possibly fail at. But God works the most beautifully when we're completely emptied of everything inside of us. Because in that, his Spirit finally has room to move. To ebb and flow without getting stunted and pushed back by walls of pride, control and striving.
God knowingly lets us sit in our discomfort and ignorance. He lets us hang on the edge by a few fingers. We're screaming and shouting for an answer, for relief, for some type of solution. We feel like we are going to die. But it's in those moments that he moves the most mightily.

Surprisingly enough, this character trait of God sends me into an enamored state of warm fuzzies. What love! What pure and true love to focus on the highest good for his child. Silence, on the surface seems so awful. Like, we're being neglected. But the reality is that we're being nurtured more than we know.



Now, more than ever, I've never been so assured of his goodness or so trusting in his character.




I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. - 2 Corinthians 12:7-10