My hands and legs get weaker.
My heart races…skips a beat or double beat.
My lungs gasp for shallow breaths.
My hands will shake and travel through the rest of my body.
My mind will race.
Later comes nausea and headaches.
I’ll close my eyes.
Burry my face into my hands.
Breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.
And remind myself that anxiety may be able to borrow my body but it can’t have my spirit.
I’m not crazy.
I’m not faithless.
I have anxiety.
I don’t need your out-of-context Bible verses or your wise counsel.
I need you to sit on the floor with me.
Wait with me.
Pray with me.
Let Jesus hold me. Feel with me. One moment at a time.
Even when it looks like He isn’t restoring me.
Jesus is my advocate not my accuser.
He runs towards my mess.
He’s there to hold, love and defend.
Jesus will always be in the dirt with the hurting, the broken, and the anxious.
That’s got to be the Church. Because it’s the Spirit of our Savior.
Let’s stop pointing people to a Hallmark card or Spurgeon quote & just sit with them in their mess.
Let’s stop pretending that faithfulness & brokenness can’t go together.
You can’t reason everything away.
Sometimes faith isn’t the issue.
And whatever you think you know, isn’t enough.
But Jesus is.
Jesus is enough.