I have a horrid anxiety disorder. It’s awful, really. I have had it since I was young and frankly, it’s one of those things about me that I wish I could get rid of for good. It makes me more sensitive to things at times. Other times it makes me overreact when I should really reel it in. But, all in all, the worst part about my disorder is it makes me into my own idol. It makes me into my own god. It makes me doubt the goodness of God Almighty and basks in the fear and the control I can make myself. It’s a horrid cycle, too, because the more I worry, the more I grasp for control, the more I grasp for control that is out of reach, the more I worry. It affects me in all aspects of my life- my marriage, my work, my friends, and my faith. It’s embarrassing, it’s bothersome, and it affects me in the most personal and profound ways.
But even in this my baptism hasn’t dried up. Though my panic may make me feel as if God has abandoned me, it isn’t true. My relationship with God has nothing to do with my feelings. It has nothing to do with if I am afraid of my own shadow or if I think I have it all under control. God still has me in His hands, forgiven and beloved that has nothing to do with my own merit or worthiness. That’s the great thing about God’s love. It’s not dependent on my “accepting it”. It’s not about whether or not I have done anything. It’s objective. Focused on God, not on my feeble sinful self, I can be reassured that although I am a sinner, and actively sinning against God when I have an anxiety attack, I am forgiven, not because of who I am, but because of Who Christ is, and what He did for me on the cross at Calvary.
It’s not the “cure” for my anxiety disorder in that I will be rid of it, but it’s THE cure, the eternal cure. The cure that Christ won for me on the cross, the cure that knows that though I carry this burden now, I am now and will be complete without this disorder. Odd to think about but makes perfect sense in view of eternity.