This was very early in December, and I was fighting anxiety something fierce. One of my friends was going through a rough time and not talking much, so I was worried about them, but in addition to that, I was also having panic attacks almost all day, every day.
I would get up and have crippling anxiety. Go to work. Have more anxiety. Have lunch. Have a side of anxiety. No matter what I did, it was anxiety.
I kept up with my Bible reading plans, but they didn't help anything. One night, I opened my Bible and turned to Psalms, hoping to find some comfort, but found that I couldn't even read it, so I just curled up on my bed, holding my Bible in my arms, crying and trying to pray. I definitely clung to Romans 8:26 that night.
"Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." — Romans 8:26 KJVFinally, it got so bad on Wednesday, that I decided if I didn't feel better after lunch, I was going to go home, because I wasn't able to give myself to the kiddos the way they needed and deserved (I work at a school in a support position). For me to willingly take off work is saying a lot. I don't take off work. I can't afford to, and I feel like a bum most of the time when I do, even when I'm sick.
I explained roughly to my supervising teacher that I wasn't physically sick, but the anxiety was so bad I couldn't breathe. She was so understanding, and sent me home, telling me that I have sick days for a reason, and it's okay to take them.
On the way home, I came to the corner that would take me to the mound.
The mound is a park sort of place in my town. It's literally a big hill with a park on top. There are hiking trails, and a path to drive up. At the very top is something we call the lookout. It's just a cement platform raised up high enough that you can see the entire city. It's a beautiful place to go, and probably my favorite place in my town (aside from my own house).
So, I drove up there. I hadn't eaten lunch yet.
I just sat in front of the lookout for a bit, then decided on Sonic for lunch. So I went to get my lunch and came back. I tried to feed a cat that I saw. It...did not like hot dogs. But it was a sweet cat and I loved it.
I tried to pray a bit. It was still hard. I was still anxious. I was still worried about my friend.
Finally, I got out of my car, and climbed up to the lookout.
I love to sing, and always have. I have a hymn book app on my phone, so I opened it up, and began singing every hymn from it that I knew, whether it was one I preferred or not. I don't remember if I prayed while I sang or not. But I offered myself up to God, despite that I could barely breathe.
I didn't realize how loud I was singing, or that anyone could hear me. I love to sing, but I get nervous when people catch me singing. I'm okay with performing (though I'm nervous then, too). I'm fine with breaking out into song with friends and family. But for someone to just catch me singing...it makes me nervous.
After about an hour, I felt so much better. There was so much peace. This doesn't always, or frequently happen, but this time, praising God when I couldn't breathe turned out that he took my anxiety away that time.
But the story isn't over.
I got back in my car, and was just sitting there reading my Bible...I think I was in Psalms again.
This big, white, SUV van thing drives up the mound. Not uncommon. Others had driven up and down the mound that day. But then they drove right up next to my car, where I was sitting with the window rolled down.
A Mennonite lady gets out, and walks over to my car. "Are you the one who was singing?"
Seeing as I could not see myself, I can only imagine that my eyes got big when she asked that. And I go, "Yes, I didn't know anyone could hear me!" (Thank you Mr. Miller for teaching me how to project...)
She told me she'd been working in her yard when she heard me. Her little boy had been singing back to me, but of course I couldn't hear him. She also told me that she'd been blessed by my singing.
Guys! This is big! And beautiful! And...I am still blown away by it.
I was suffering that day. I was struggling and suffering, and couldn't breathe. I was hurting. Yet I poured out myself to God. I told him how I felt, and then I praised him anyway.
My pain led to another woman being blessed. My choice to praise God even when I was in pain led to another woman being blessed. And learning that I had blessed her, in turn blessed me.
And if she heard me...others probably did, too. Including that truck that just sat there up on the mound for 2-3 hours.... I don't know how many people I accidentally blessed.
When you are hurting, and in pain, your reaction to your suffering can be an amazing blessing and example to others. When you praise God despite suffering, you're also being like Job (see the book of Job), who lost everything, yet still chose to follow God, and praise him, and didn't reject him because of the suffering he was allowed to go through.
When you praise God despite your suffering, sometimes he will absolutely take your suffering away. And sometimes he doesn't. And that's okay. You are an example to others by the way you live your life. When you praise God, despite your suffering, you are telling Satan that he's still not winning. That even when he throws things at you (whether directly, as in the case of Job, or because of the fall) he cannot take away your love and praise to a good God who loves you more than you can imagine.
AND
You're telling others that you serve a God bigger than your suffering, and that you refuse to allow your suffering to pull you away from him.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!