The Anxiety Monster and Singing

When I decided to start a blog 4+ years ago, I wasn't really sure what I was going to write about every time. It ended up normally including some sort of parenting lesson I was learning courtesy of Finn, or commemorating some special event or memory in my life. It kept my love for writing alive.

I never thought that I could write about parenting techniques, because I certainly don't feel like an expert.
I never thought I could write about fashion or makeup, because I'm so not on the cusp of it.
I never thought I could write about tv shows or entertainment, because it feels kind of empty and fruitless.
I never thought I could write about fitness tips or tricks, because come on, let's get serious.

I didn't have any knowledge that could help a reader out.

So I just kind of wrote about our lives, and my personal experiences. I wrote about God nearly every time, because He's intensely personal to me.

Writing helps me process the chaos in my mind, and I guess I share it because truly, I hope others can identify and get something out of what I've walked through. Let's all just be messes together, am I right?

One of the biggest insecurities I have about putting our lives out there is, "Gretchen, do you really think people care? How many stories can you tell about yourself, really? Are you that self-involved that you can't talk about anything else?" The voices of insecurity play on inside my head.

But really, I write about my stories because my personal experience is the only thing I feel like I am an expert at.

However, the other night, I was with my best friend and we got on the topic of how we often go through hard times so that we are able to better help others through similar circumstances (2 Corinthians 1). I shared with her how I've been able to help many of our young adult women through anxiety because it's a monster in my life that I've had to learn to conquer. I've been able to use my personal experience with it to teach others about walking through it in the strength of God.

I said to Chanelle, "I could probably just keep a blog all about anxiety and how to deal with it on a daily basis."

I've dealt with anxiety so much that sometimes I feel like an expert at it.

For the past year and a half or so, my anxiety has flared up every time I am to sing in public. Now, I've always been a little nervous to sing in front of people, but that was just the shy girl in me. Since last February, however, it has been a much more intense, sometimes debilitating fear. So debilitating in fact, that I have been tempted to walk away from it entirely: "Maybe God just never meant for me to be a singer and I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not".

I've never counted myself as the best singer in any room, especially any room that my husband is in, but it is something I have genuinely loved all my life. I come alive when I hear music. I have music going constantly at home. Even when it's silent I'm usually singing whatever song is stuck in my head at that moment. I love to connect to God through music; I love looking at Him through lyrics and singing them, meaning every word with all my heart. I feel His presence in those moments.

But I had allowed the joy of singing to be stolen from me by giving anxiety a foothold - again - in my mind. Every time I was to sing in public, I became petrified that my voice was going to give out on me. I consistently thought that my throat felt scratchy and agitated. For days before singing, I would avoid talking on the phone, having long conversations with my husband, and even reading books to my boys in order to "save" my voice. It began to take over my life on those days.

Nobody has ever argued that anxiety is always rational, after all.

When I realized that I had allowed something I loved very much to be tarnished by anxiety, I began to get angry. It has been my experience that anger can be a healthy antidote to anxiety. It shows a fighting spirit and an unwillingness to back down to the bully that is anxiety.

Anxiety has to be fought. It will not go away on it's own. The more leeway it is given, the more it takes over. One has to be more stubborn than it - choosing over and over again, 100 times a day if needed - to focus on faith more than fear.

I'm still not totally over this particular battle. It continues to be a mental boxing match, but oh, the strides that have been taken. After all, sometimes battles are won slowly.

Each time I get up and sing even when I'm afraid, I put one more nail in the coffin of anxiety.

I now refuse to stifle my voice in the days beforehand, choosing to believe that God will use my voice as long as it's offered, and whether it's tired or not.

This whole singing ordeal has been one more ride on the anxiety carousel for me. Although it has been suffocating and frustrating and humiliating to the point that I only spoke of it with those closest to me, it has taught me more about the anxiety monster and more about the faithfulness of God. I wouldn't trade that for anything.

This past weekend I was leading a song for worship and began feeling anxious as soon as my husband told me on Wednesday evening. Thursday I happened to read this: "Do not be afraid any longer, only believe." (Mark 5:36).

That's God's grace, right there. I repeated that verse to myself over and over again during the next few days. I acted on it, willing myself away from anxious thoughts and focusing on belief. It carried me up to the moment I opened my mouth to sing.

Showing up afraid and singing anyway helps me to defeat the anxiety monster.

I can give you names of sermons I've listened to and books I've read and and verses I've memorized and songs I've heard that have helped me immensely against anxiety.

But, truly, the greatest weapon that I have found in defeating it totally lies in one thing: trusting that God loves me.

When I trust that God loves me, I am able to surrender to whatever His plans are for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I can relax in His ability to care for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I know He works all things - even hard things - for good.
When I trust that God loves me, I honor Him.

Nothing, truly, matters more than that.

Gratitude, the Fair, and My Nostrils

I woke up this morning grateful to be able to breathe through my nose. It's something I take for granted too often, these nostrils of mine. But they really are a gift! Like, they just work, open for my breathing pleasure, and I don't have to think twice about it. Miraculous!

The past few days, my nostrils were not working so well. They were totally and completely clogged, congesting my breathing and causing my eyes to spring forth tears like a plentiful fountain. Many times did I protest in that time, "I JUST WANT TO BREATHE!"

I woke up this morning, breathing, beautifully breathing through my nose. It was fabulous, and I actually thanked God for nostrils. I'm not usually cognizant of my gratefulness for nostrils, in fact, I almost always take them for granted. 

Being taken for granted is something most parents understand all too well. All of the little things we do on a daily basis go completely unnoticed. Shoot, many of the BIG things we do go unnoticed and thereby unappreciated. 

This past week we took our boys to the fair for the first time. We figured Finn would love the rides and Jonas would love the food. Sure enough, the first couple of rides, Finn's face was a bright beam of sunshine and he excitedly and sweetly waited for the next ride.

But then something peculiar happened. Instead of lavishing us in thanks and adoration for the fun time he was having, he began to get a little greedy. He began taking the whole experience for granted. Suddenly his sweet, eager waiting became sour, impatient whining. He became picky about which rides to go on, begging us for whatever looked like the next big thrill.

We had to say "no" to a lot in that stretch of time. Every "no" was for his good.

"No" to the sleazy pirate fun house.
"No" to the funky looking roller coaster.
"No" to the spinning craziness his daddy can't bear to ride with him.

Eventually, due to tiredness or overstimulation or what have you, our boy was a crying, screaming, demanding spectacle. Long gone was the bright-eyed boy who was eager just to get to ride any ride. The joy was gone, the thrill was gone, the gratitude was gone.

It was evident to me in that moment exactly why gratitude is so important to God.

When Jesus healed the 10 lepers and only one returned to thank him (Luke 17), he most certainly noticed, asking, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" The one who returned received a special blessing.

Without gratitude, we become spoiled brats: looking for the next thrill to get our adrenaline pumping, demanding the next big thing as though we deserve it, and forgetting that there is a gracious Hand behind it all.

Like the Israelites after their dramatic rescue from the Egyptians, we begin to whine and complain and focus on all that we do not have.

We take our eyes off of the God who parted the Red Sea for us and center our attention on ourselves.

When we forget to be grateful for the abundance of things He's already given us (breathing through one's nose, for example), we become instantly greedy for the next big blessing. "More, more, more!" becomes the cry of our heart, rather than the quiet beauty and strength of a soul surrendered to Him.

Choosing to be grateful puts us in proper relationship to God, humble before Him, acknowledging that every good thing is directly from His hand and out of His love for us.

It is remembering all that He has already done, the many ways He is presently showing His love for us, and all that He has promised to do.

Gratitude helps us to not take the little motorcycle ride for granted, and reminds us that if we are told we can't ride the Tilt a Whirl, it's most certainly for our own protection.

The fact that Finn acted demanding and selfish did not change my love for him in any measure. However, his behavior did require some discipline and reminded me that maybe he will need a bit more preparation before we try something that grandiose again.

There are reasons we do not have everything our hearts desire. There are reasons we go through times of waiting. There are reasons we feel lousy for being demanding and selfish.

"And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son'. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined - and everyone undergoes discipline - then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:5-11

When we remember to be grateful for all that has been, all that is, and all that will be, our joy in this life is tangible. We honor God, but it's really just another strategy He uses to bless us and make us more like Himself.

That's His goodness, and that's what we choose to remember.