When Anxiety Comes
For days, I walked around with that old monster. He clung uncomfortably close, making me remember the weakness, remember the strain. My mind raced, trying to figure out why he was back. What had I done to let him into my life again? What did his presence mean?
Mama said, “You’re nervous,” but that wasn’t it. Nervousness feels like double dutch before getting in the rope. You know, once you’re in, you’re in, and being in is where you belong. He doesn’t feel like that.
He’s like boulders piled high one at a time, crushing with a steady pressure. He strips me raw, exposing every insecurity and doubt. He slices me open and splays me. I know I can fight back, but he makes me feel defeated even before the thought of fighting ever forms. He doesn’t taunt or ridicule. He knows my ego won’t tolerate that, so he simply presses just a little more each time until the insult becomes mine. If it belongs to me, I won’t notice he’s moved in to stay.
Mama’s sick, so I can’t go over and put my head in her lap. I smile, just a little, at the desire to collapse onto the one who first held me up, who first bolstered me for the winds of life. She’d hold me and rub my head and tell me everything she’s already said at one time or another. She’d comfort me. But she can’t fix it. We both know. So I’d slink off toward home.
Marilyn, you don’t run from hard things. I say it before I believe it. The thought petrifies me. I shudder at what confrontation actually means. I have to counter the narrative running in my mind. You don’t run from hard things.
He knows me so well. He’s studied me over the years. Before, that would have been enough. He would have backed off. Now, though, I have to do the thing. I have to set things in motion, taking one faithful step after another until I believe the truth again.
Lord, I say, You are faithful. You never ask for my perfection because You sent Your perfect Son to redeem me. I trust You because You are trustworthy. I am courageous, fighting through fear, because You promised your everlasting presence. I can do hard things because I don’t do them in my strength. You give me Yours through Christ Jesus. Help me to fix my gaze on You. In Jesus’ name, I pray! Amen
Memos from the Middle 