Lessons on Anxiety from My Dog

This week, my precious little Lab Shiloh injured her right paw.  A couple of days ago when our garage door was open, Shiloh took her obvious opportunity to go racing out of the house. She sped down the stairs, down into the garage, and out into our townhome complex. Naturally, I ran after her, looking just as crazy as I’m sure my neighbors imagine I am.  She then decided that she would poop on the sidewalk AND terrorize a new resident. Great. When I finally caught her, she was limping pathetically, and my anger dissolved.  I surveyed the damage and found that her paw was bleeding a bit between the toes. I tried to clean the area as best I could, but as soon as I touched her paw, Shiloh yelped and whipped back in pain, almost biting me.  Now, every time I sit down to play with her, Shiloh looks at me and walks away…probably because she thinks I’m trying to hurt her. The truth is exactly the opposite.I love my dog. She is not a human, but she’s my company when my husband is away at sea (which he just happens to be for the next two weeks). Call me crazy, but sometimes I even have conversations with her. She is always by my side, and she’s there waiting on me when I get home. Plus, she’ll cuddle with me whenever I need it, which seems to be more often than not(it’s like dogs have a sixth sense about these things or something).She’s my pal. This morning I found myself weepy over her lack of affection. I contemplated writing a desperate email to my husband about how sad I feel now that she won’t come near me, but then I realized that he, unlike myself, probably has too much going on to be bothered with my hormonal ramblings. I know that he would care, but I decided to spare him this time.  So, I was left to my journal. At my kitchen table, I tearfully penned:

Lord, I know this seems childish, but please make Shiloh trust me enough to come to me.

And then, almost audibly, I felt the Lord reminding me: I have the same desire for you.

If you know me well, you know that I worry about the smallest details of life. I mean, I am the girl whose heart starts racing and stomach starts churning whenever we have an icebreaker at Bible study because it means I’ll be forced to talk.  And if you asked me to share my testimony to a room of people, I might just run out crying. I don’t do well with being out of control of my personal “bubble” and I start sweating profusely if traffic makes me 2 minutes late. Sometimes it seems like I let this anxiety rule my life.  It’s not right, but it’s true. Anxiety is too much a part of my life. In fact, I would venture to say that it shouldn’t be a part of my life at all.  There is a difference between being concerned and planning well, and partnering with anxiety.  And I’m pretty sure that because anxiety is my “life crutch” it means that I don’t trust the Father. I don’t trust him to provide faithfully(as he always does) or to be in charge of the chaos that is my life(which, incidentally, probably would NOT be as chaotic if I just let go of control)  Honestly, my thoughts are so divided that I don’t go to Jesus because I don’t know what it means to rest. In his grace. In his truth. In his calming embrace( and no…I did not mean for that to rhyme…this is what happens when you spend the majority of your day with children J ) Jesus knows me. He loves me. And he desires that I come; with my fears, with my anxieties--with all of these things that keep me from experiencing freedom--and to lay them down. It’s that simple.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly  Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

                                                                                                                                                Matthew 6:25-27

PS: Shiloh is fine J She is being treated for an infected baby toe. She’s in some pain, but she’s still acting like a crazy puppy, so all is well, in case you were wondering.

Ugly Worship

Oh, love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee...

This week has been tearful, to say the least. I'm not saying my tears are sad at all. In fact, I've cried for a myriad of reasons. Sappy commercial, silly love song, random act of kindness from a stranger, etc. And my tears are't pretty, either. I'm one of those uncomposed criers. Come on, don't act like you're not picking up what I'm putting down. We've all witnessed those people--the ones who cause a major public scene with their blubbering. They leek slobber and salty tears all over their faces, their expression would make you think they're witnessing some heinous crime, and the noises...oh, the noises. They squeak, snort, cough...sometimes their vocal register is so high that their speech is barely audible through their tearful stammering. Overall just a heap of discomfort for everyone involved. And I mean EVERYONE. I like to call it ugly crying. Humorously enough, usually the catalyst for such a commotion is nothing greater than a tragic ending to their favorite rom-com or the pathetic realization that Justin Beiber does, in fact, have a new lady friend ( yes boys, sometimes we are shallow enough to dream that we could be next) Don't worry, to quote one of my favorite Nelly songs, it is "only just a dream"(sounds kinda redundant, Nell, let's aim for better material next time, okay?I can be real like this with him because we're tight...) Well, confession time: that crazed crier is me. Yup, I can totally relate to those girls because I have been THAT GIRL.

Okay, maybe it's not THAT dramatic...but in my head it is. You name it, and I've probably cried about it. Sometimes Tyler likes to predict the tears when we're watching a movie or a sugary commercial. I know this because he always looks back at me expectantly. It's like a cheap thrill for him. Makes him giggle and I don't mind :)

The biggest tear-trigger thus far this week: My husband is gone for two weeks. It's strange and new for us since we haven't been separated for this long since our first few weeks of marriage. He is out to sea, and I am here in San Diego, awaiting his return. It has probably been one of the longest weeks of my married life. Trying to fill my days with meetings and outings with friends, over-cleaning the house, finding little tasks to keep me busy. It is hard, and sometimes really discouraging. Waiting and wondering if he's ok. Waiting and praying that he isn't exhausted. Waiting and checking my email constantly, for some word on his current state. Waiting...waiting...waiting...

Today in Starbucks I had an ugly crying moment.
I was reading Paul's words in Philippians 3:

"But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that DEPENDS on faith--that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead." (7-11)

I kept retracing those words in my mind.And there in my cushy leather chair, began the tear-fest. Of course, since I WAS in a public place, I determined not to let the waterworks consume me. Soon, however, my eyes were so full that my glasses fogged up and my vision blurred. My face became wet and blotchy. I looked like a hot mess and I had to leave. So, I continued the moment in the privacy of my car. I know people must have thought I was crazy...

But that thought kept striking me: Righteousness depends on faith...

I know this is elementary, but for me, it was revolutionary. I considered all of those faith-less moments I have on a daily basis. I literally have very little faith. You can look at the Spiritual gifts test I took last night...I "don't got it". In fact, I barely have faith enough for it to count. I think I scored a 2. Geeze louise. It was hitting me hard, like a blow to the head. Then I was overwhelmed by love. What a GOOD God we serve. He not only saves us, but he LOVES us. The Word says that he KNOWS we are dust, and yet he DESIRES a life-giving, vulnerable relationship with us. He saves us, and he knows us. AND he desires that we know him. That's why He keeps pressing deeper and harder into our hearts: to soften us and make us more like himself. He desires that we be righteous. But our problem is: we are faithless creatures. Faithless and imperfect. We are not made to have hope. We are born as objects of wrath. We have zero hope.


but JESUS.

He wants me to be righteous. He knows I can't on my own,so he washes me with his blood. He desires faith, but he knows I am faithless. So he graciously gives grace to believe-especially in these aimless waiting games.

Our God provides. In this life, I feel like there will always be something to wait for. Whether it's a spouse, a baby, a new job, etc. There is always an excuse to be discontent. To forget to worship. But that is not what God desires for his children. We could wait anxiously, believing the lie that God will not take care of us OR we can rest in the satisfaction that He knows us and every step we take is guided by his desire that we be conformed to his image; that we would KNOW his heart. And when we lack faith--which we almost always will--He gives more grace to believe and to trust his steadfast hand. In those faithless days, we can worship in the best way we can muster.

So, while this waiting business sometimes drags me down, I can choose to find contentment in the everyday grace--those small victories I keep referencing. If that means my ugly crying is all I've got to offer after a long day, then may that be a fragrant offering of worship to my King. He gives the day-by-day faith to make us righteously content.

Today's small victory: one of my kids--who usually cries every rehearsal--did not cry today!

This week: Shiloh learned how to "sit" and "stay"....

Taking things one day at a time, people, and the Father keeps reminding me of his love.

:)
photo credit: Jill Greenberg

Vacuum Worship

Shiloh, my puppy, is absolutely terrified of the vacuum cleaner. It is her arch nemesis. Call me cruel, but I get a kick of it every time she tries to "hide" when her "enemy" comes around. In fact, every time I vacuum, Shiloh prepares for "war". She scurries around nervously, sometimes tinkles and finally finds her place underneath the grill outside until I am finished. This is serious business.

And...no, I don't have anything spiritual to say about it. I just wanted to share it in hopes of a getting a laugh or two. :)

Today, as I was vacuuming, and my poor puppy was hiding behind the screen, I was feeling pretty accomplished. I had been jammin' out to my 60s pop iHeart station, and I was almost giddy. There's just something about productivity and good music that gets me all excited inside(permission granted to re-read that last sentence as one of the Darling twins...) I chuckled to myself as I drifted in and out my self-created rock concert. Naturally pretending my vacuum was my dance partner. It was fabulous, if I do say so, myself. Of course, I was my only audience...

Suddenly, I had to stop. Over my personal dance party, I heard this still small voice say, "I love you". I blushed. My insides started bubbling over. Tears inked out all over the place. I knew exactly who the voice was and I was sure I heard Him smiling. I felt so loved and wanted. It made me giggle. And cry. And laugh. Before I knew it, Matt Redman was leading me in worship over the sound of an angry vacuum. But the voice kept pressing in, making me feel delighted in and desired, and the vacuum was soon silenced. I simply had to stand there and sing, arms wide open, tears streaming down my face. I must've looked certifiable to my neighbors, who I'm sure saw everything through our glass doors, but I didn't really mind. It was the sweetest moment I've had in a long time.

I felt The Lord delighting over me being ME. He was applauding my quirks and smiling at my silliness. I was thankful for his love, and amazed that the Holy of Holies would love me enough to send Christ...and not only that, but to have a relationship with me. To know me. To want me. The feeling compelled me to worship and the worship took me deeper into His heart. I was in awe.

But there's a problem. I don't always feel it. In the past, my husband has said that I am an "off the charts feeler". He's right, I am. My feelings are like a double-edged sword, really. God made me emotional, so my emotions are not bad. It's just that when they become too much of a crutch that issues arise. When I feel something good, I FEEL it. I am joyful and enthusiastic. But when I'm sad, I am an Eeyore.My emotions also make me able to empathize with others on a more personal level, too. They're not entirely bad. But when it comes to worship, I should never need to feel something to respond.Christ is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. John Piper says this in a much more eloquent way:

“My feelings are not God. God is God. My feelings do not define truth. God’s word defines truth. My feelings are echoes and responses to what my mind perceives. And sometimes - many times - my feelings are out of sync with the truth. When that happens - and it happens every day in some measure - I try not to bend the truth to justify my imperfect feelings, but rather, I plead with God: Purify my perceptions of your truth and transform my feelings so that they are in sync with the truth.”

My faith cannot be based on what I do or do not feel. Regardless of whether or not I'm "feeling" like having a quiet time, God is God and He desires time with me. In fact, it is in those dry seasons, when God feels far away, that the need to press into his character is greater. When God seems far away, it's never because of anything he has done. It is usually because of my sin...but because of his love, He won't let me wallow in it. It is quite painful, but good. As a result, we see a little bit more of his heart. This relationship with God is a commitment, it is not merely something I do because I feel like it. And the encouraging truth is, He is WAY more committed to his beloved than we are to him. So, in those bone-dry seasons, or even in those numb moments, He loves us enough to combat the lies we are believing and draw out truth. THAT is our God. He is relational. He is merciful. And He is holy. Always.

So if you don't necessarily feel like being faithful today, or if you're just plain discouraged, just cling to the grace he offers so abundantly every day and walk forward resting in that strength. You are not alone in this. And you are loved far more than you know.

Psalm 103:17
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children...