Shame, Fear, Anxiety. You Know. Fun Stuff.

As I write this post I am gathering “everything” that needs to be handed over, turned in, delegated, and otherwise “done.” In preparation to leave the continent. I mean by the time you READ this I’ll have been back for two weeks but tutt-tutt it’ll still be just as valid.

Today, I started of “right.” Even though I’d had a rough night’s sleep, I rolled out of bed, and sat down to read my Bible and pray. And I did it with a faithful heart, not an “older brother” or pharasiacal heart. I just wanted to spend time with my Jesus.

Got ready in the “right” way. (Just FTR, I’m setting myself up for a fall here, so the pride you see, I see it too…just keep reading.) I’m kinda tan right now so a quick “Is any hair sticking out like crazy?” check in the mirror, threw on a low maintenance outfit, and I was at work. As soon as I got here, I got cracking on the long list of things that needed doing. (Except, I wasn’t really thinking of God. I was just thinking of the list. He was here, I was getting things done with semi-miraculous speed and ease, and though that’s because of him, I was only really thinking of me.)

I was working the “right” way. Asking the questions that needed asking. Diligently printing calendars, do last-minute-checks, writing notes. You get the point. From the outside, even from what I was conscious of on the inside: model citizen.

Then it hit me. Anxiety. I used to struggle so much with anxiety that I could end up, for no known reason, hyperventilating on the floor. I’ve had “recovery” from this for about 17 months, though, warring against the evil and lies that would threaten to break me to pieces with two huge and simple truths.

GOD IS ALL GOOD
and
GOD IS IN COMPLETE CONTROL

So today when I started wigging out, I wondered why. My ducks were in line, peoplefriends. I’m not exaggerating when I’m saying that things were just…beautifully getting done. I was well on my way to leaving with all my t’s crossed and i’s dotted. I’d had a good morning. I’d been walking with Jesus. So why was I freaking out?

PRIDEBOMB.

Because I was expecting all those things, those GOOD things, to bring me comfort.

But things don’t make life better. Nor do circumstances. It may feel that way, but the truth is marked well in a quote from the sermon given at TASCC on 01/02/10, “Our satisfaction in life will be measured by our fixation on you.”

 

By His grace and logic, God loves me. He loves me so much that He’ll give me discomfort, even in my GOOD things, to get my eyes back on His Greatness.

And for the record, yes, after He showed me all that, I did calm down.

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