.the.fear.that.shortens.breaths.

I lived a fairly care free childhood. With the exception of a few emergency room trips for stitches I was healthy. I attended only one funeral of a family member, my step-grandfather, and we were never truly close. School was easy enough that even my troubles there were more about me applying myself rather than a lack of success. I worked low pressure jobs. Stress was not even a blip on my radar.

And then it hit me like a Mac-truck.

I was 20 and working a summer camp making videos. One afternoon, I found myself crying in the fetal position, on the floor. I couldn’t move.

“Why?” you ask?

A broken piece of equipment.

Because a broken piece of equipment led to a missed deadline, which led to a less than friendly conversation with my boss, which led to hundreds of dollars of personal money spent, which led to new equipment not working, which led to another missed deadline, etc.. which led to me, on the floor, gasping for air.

Voices whispered to me: “It’s all your fault” “You can’t do anything right” “You’ll never get what you want” “You’ll only screw this up even more.”

I couldn’t move because I was afraid. Not of the dark, not of sharks, impending doom, the elderly (don’t laugh), or thermal nuclear war. I was afraid that I would not meet the expectations that I had for the situation.

Isn’t that what anxiety truly is: A fear of meeting expectations? Whether those expectations are placed on you by yourself or others.

How am I going to pay these months bills?
Why can’t I get her to like me?
Why can’t I seem to do anything right?

We get angry, we get depressed, we spiral down till the weight feels too heavy to carry.

At least for me anyways. It dropped me to the floor, breathing little half breaths.

By the grace of God, it has only happened on that level once. But there are times when it keeps me up at night or wakes me in the morning. It derails my day or even a week. Not often, but once or twice a year is enough to make an impact.

Last night was one of those nights. The cause something possibly even sillier than a broken piece of equipment. I had placed an expectation on someone else that I really had no right to. I could rationalize a reason, but it truly wouldn’t matter. I lay in bed, awake. It woke me up early this morning, and it made work darn near impossible.

I biked to work hoping to exercise it out. 7 miles there, 7 miles back and it was the same. So I went on a run to a park, a place I had only been once before and got completely lost, hoping for the same outcome. I brought a Bible, hoping through prayer and meditation on the word of God my heart would be still.

I found the cry of David in Psalm 4:

Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!
You have given me relief when I was in distress.
Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!

So I prayed. Then I turned to Matt 6:25-34, which is amazing passage about anxiety about God’s provision. Verse 31-34, Jesus says:

“Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

And here I see what anxiety is on a spiritual level. Just like many other ways that we get distracted in our faith, anxiety is placing our hope in something else. Hoping that if we get more of something that everything will be okay. If I could get that one girl or guy to like me, my life will be complete. When these things don’t happen, we get anxious. When our lives hinge on things outside of God, we get anxious. Our focus is in the wrong place.

Seek first the kingdom of God. When our hope is there, everything else takes care of itself. What worry is there when the only thing our lives and mood hinge on is a steadfast, loving, all-knowing God?

Philippians 4:6:

do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

Give those cares to the Lord, give those worries, give those fears.

Pray.

So I did.

There is still a twinge of pain in thinking about what happened. However, I know that whether my expectations are met or not two things are true—God is still God and my hope rests in Him. I have given the situation to him, in hopes that it results favorably for me but know that I will not be wrecked if it doesn’t.

My hearts not racing.

I will not lose any sleep.

And I breathe in deep the faithfulness of God.

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