You Don’t Trust God Enough
Sometimes, I read my old blog posts, and I’m like “dang, she’s wise.”
When I was in high school, I was really good at church. In small groups, I was the one who read books and Bible passages. I gave input and advice that impressed youth leaders. I had a scripture for every problem my friends had. And it was genuine. I shared from my heart. I didn’t have a secret double life.
Tonight, as a sophomore in college, I went to a church small group. I looked at the passage we went over in group, and fear rose in my throat. For awhile, I focused on what we were talking about. But as time went on, my anxiety grew. I squeezed the hell out of my stress eggs, curled in on myself. The other girl, one of the group leaders, asked what I got out of the text. My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want anyone looking at me. I wanted to leave.
After managing to spit out a sentence, I went back to the swirling thoughts in my head. It didn’t help that we were talking about anxiety and how it’s a sign of a lack of trust in God.
You’re not good enough. Your anxiety is a sin. You don’t trust God enough.
When I got back home, I wanted to break down. Those memories of high school small groups came back up. Even last year, when I was in a discipleship/living program, I always had something to share in Bible study. I was good, I think as I scan old blog posts. I used to be so good.
For almost a year, church has been a source of anxiety for me. Just writing that, a wave of shame washes over me. Even on occasions when I feel the presence of God, I still feel anxious. The worst part? Church used to be the place I felt most at home, where I felt the most peace.
I like having the answers. I still have a lot of scriptural knowledge. I can still give my friends wise advice. There’s a line in a poem I wrote that goes, I have all the right answers / and everything else. I still have those answers, but I have some more baggage too. After praying all the right prayers, singing all the right songs, reading all the right verses...I still have anxiety and depression. At some point, I stopped believing any of those things would help. I stopped believing God would help.
From the outside, my faith looks weaker than it was two years ago. The reality is that my faith is stronger now.
This strength doesn’t show up in speaking out in Bible studies. This faith has been growing in my silence. In small decisions for my health. In choosing to believe in God’s character even when my experience seems to contradict Him.
When I was younger, I could find lessons in my difficult experiences. The last five months have been the most difficult of my life. Most days, I see failures, not teaching moments. But one thing I have learned about myself is that I don’t want to be good at church anymore. I want to be real.
I struggle to believe that God loves me, but I choose to act like He does.
I can barely open my Bible without experiencing waves of accusation, but I open my Bible anyway.
I don’t know if God has a future and a hope for me, but I know that Christ is enough for me.
Worship music sometimes gives me anxiety. I’m still singing. Don’t tell me I don’t trust God enough because I have anxiety. I want to pray and read my Bible more, not to fix my suffering, but to know Christ better.
Even when I can’t see past tomorrow.
Even when anxiety keeps me silent.
Even when I have to drag myself out of bed.
Even when my identity is shaken.
Even when trust seems like a mistake.
Even when I want to give up.
God is with me even when.
When I was in high school, I was really good at church. In small groups, I was the one who read books and Bible passages. I gave input and advice that impressed youth leaders. I had a scripture for every problem my friends had. And it was genuine. I shared from my heart. I didn’t have a secret double life.
Tonight, as a sophomore in college, I went to a church small group. I looked at the passage we went over in group, and fear rose in my throat. For awhile, I focused on what we were talking about. But as time went on, my anxiety grew. I squeezed the hell out of my stress eggs, curled in on myself. The other girl, one of the group leaders, asked what I got out of the text. My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want anyone looking at me. I wanted to leave.
After managing to spit out a sentence, I went back to the swirling thoughts in my head. It didn’t help that we were talking about anxiety and how it’s a sign of a lack of trust in God.
You’re not good enough. Your anxiety is a sin. You don’t trust God enough.
When I got back home, I wanted to break down. Those memories of high school small groups came back up. Even last year, when I was in a discipleship/living program, I always had something to share in Bible study. I was good, I think as I scan old blog posts. I used to be so good.
For almost a year, church has been a source of anxiety for me. Just writing that, a wave of shame washes over me. Even on occasions when I feel the presence of God, I still feel anxious. The worst part? Church used to be the place I felt most at home, where I felt the most peace.
I like having the answers. I still have a lot of scriptural knowledge. I can still give my friends wise advice. There’s a line in a poem I wrote that goes, I have all the right answers / and everything else. I still have those answers, but I have some more baggage too. After praying all the right prayers, singing all the right songs, reading all the right verses...I still have anxiety and depression. At some point, I stopped believing any of those things would help. I stopped believing God would help.
From the outside, my faith looks weaker than it was two years ago. The reality is that my faith is stronger now.
This strength doesn’t show up in speaking out in Bible studies. This faith has been growing in my silence. In small decisions for my health. In choosing to believe in God’s character even when my experience seems to contradict Him.
When I was younger, I could find lessons in my difficult experiences. The last five months have been the most difficult of my life. Most days, I see failures, not teaching moments. But one thing I have learned about myself is that I don’t want to be good at church anymore. I want to be real.
I struggle to believe that God loves me, but I choose to act like He does.
I can barely open my Bible without experiencing waves of accusation, but I open my Bible anyway.
I don’t know if God has a future and a hope for me, but I know that Christ is enough for me.
Worship music sometimes gives me anxiety. I’m still singing. Don’t tell me I don’t trust God enough because I have anxiety. I want to pray and read my Bible more, not to fix my suffering, but to know Christ better.
|| "Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ.” -Philippians 3:8 ||
Even when I can’t see past tomorrow.
Even when anxiety keeps me silent.
Even when I have to drag myself out of bed.
Even when my identity is shaken.
Even when trust seems like a mistake.
Even when I want to give up.
God is with me even when.
Yes He is! Keep it up, Hadley, you are on the right track. People who have never struggled with these things don't understand them. What few people realize is the chemical changes that occur in the brain when someone is dealing with anxiety/depression (The Soul of Shame by Curt Thompson has really helped my own understanding). I'm not a theologian, but I don't think when the Bible says "be 'anxious' for nothing" that the word for anxious carries the same meaning as the medical diagnosis of anxiety. A medical diagnosis carries a lot more physiological impacts than someone being "anxious" about their outdoor party getting rained on, for example. However, most people don't know that and incorrectly apply the same meanings to both words. Church can absolutely be a difficult place when you are surrounded by people who don't understand your struggles, but God, the God who made you is your refuge and hiding place. He loves you in every single "even when." He is enough for you. If and when you need to speak up in a group, he will give you the words and the strength to share them, but it takes time. Trust Him for the timing. (One of the biggest lessons I'm STILL learning is trusting Him for the timing.)
ReplyDeleteYou are loved!
(Mel's mom)
"I don't want to be good at church anymore. I want to be real".
ReplyDeleteGood for you! One of the most evading reality for Christian's is, we have convinced ourselves that Jesus cannot and will not see our real motives of what we say, do or even think, some how we've convinced ourselves no one can see my heart, what's in it or know my real motives, not even Jesus.
Luke 18:13
"But the tax collector stood at a distance, unwilling even to lift up his eyes to heaven. Instead, he beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner!'
Jesus said this man went home justified, he was as they say "keeping it real" before the One that matter the most, Jesus.
There is endless Grace for everyone.
I believe theres a spiritual awakening and more people are finally calling themselves the church rather than a building.
Your old friend,
Tony S.