Fragile

I have a serious problem with anxiety.  Or fear.  Worry.  Lack of faith.  Call it whatever you want, the result is the same.  I am a total mess.

I have one primary method for dealing with it - plan, plan, plan, and plan some more.

Get this - I make between 3 and 5 "to do" lists on a daily basis.  [To admit this is rather humbling because I think it signifies that I may or may not have OCD....or at least OCPD.]  Throughout the day, whenever the worry or stress of life begins to overwhelm me, I pull out a post-it note and a pen and write down every minute task I need to complete and when I plan to do it.  The anxiety disappears (do you see where I'm going with the OCD thing?...). Sometimes I keep the list in a prominent place with a Sharpie nearby so that I can enjoy crossing off each completed task.  Other times I just ball up the list and throw it away.  I don't need the list in order to remember what to do next (that will come in about 20 years - at least I'm in the habit of writing it down already).  Instead, I like the feelings of power and control I receive from the action.  It's as if by writing it down I convince myself that I am the authority about that which concerns me.

Like many of us, I "need" to be in control.  I need to have a plan.  I need to know the outcome.  I need to be sure of the result.  I need these things in order to feel safe.

Don't misundestand me.  I'm not alwasy this high-strung.  It goes in waves, and I am currently experiencing many intense stressors and having weeks of high anxiety.  It shouldn't be surprising.  I am in my last semester of graduate school and trying to find a job in a difficult economy.  My grandfather passed away unexpectedly, other dear friends and loved ones are going through various trials that I am powerless to change, and these events fall in the shadow of the April 16 anniversary...a time when it's hard to live under the illusion that I'm safe.

It's like I said to my mom the other night - "I just hate feeling helpless and vulnerable."  Her response: "But you are totally helpless and vulnerable."

Thanks, Mom.  Thanks a lot.

But's she's right.  And I know that.  I just don't like living day-to-day with such an acute awareness because I don't like my default response.  Instead of kneeling to pray, I make a list of all the things I plan to control.  Instead of, "Lord, I'm acknowledging that this day is Yours to do what You will," I clutch my pen and paper and document all that is mine.

The truth is I am helpless.  The truth is I am vulnerable.  The truth is that even as a daughter of the King trying to live a life that honors Him, I am promised no safety in this life.  And no amount of organization and contingency planning is going to change that.

I am as fragile as the cherry blossom in the picture.  Fortunately, I have a Father who knows my weakness and treats me with tenderness...

I was about to write that in His tenderness, He cares for His blossoms so that they are not crushed.  That's not quite how it is though.  In His infinite wisdom, many blooms fall and are trampled underfoot.  But it is then that their fragrance intensifies and they bless the world in a different way. 

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.  For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.  To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life..."

Changed

I've been writing this post since Monday without much success.  To be more truthful, I've written three completely different posts and three times I've deleted it instead of publishing it.  Nothing I've written seems to fully capture the magnitude of what that day three years ago meant for us in Blacksburg.

In this post today, Sandy said much of what has been on my heart.  A huge part of me is never going to get over this.  There are days when the events of 4.16.07 (and the later losses of Audrey, Ian, David, and Heidi) are ever before me and it hurts. 

In the past three years I have become profoundly acquainted with grief.  Every time I start to think that maybe, finally, this town has suffered it's share, we are given another reason to mourn.  But by His wounds we are healed.

This isn't something I am going to get over.  While I didn't know any of the victims personally, something was taken from me as well.  I no longer live under that sweet but terribly false illusion that I am safe and because I belong to Him, nothing horrible can happen to me or to those I love.  It can, and it has.  And I have asked Him the hard questions.  "Who told us we'd be rescued? What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares? We're asking why this happens to us who have died to live - it's unfair."

But in moments of desperate despair, "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.  He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God." (Psalm 40)

I'm not claiming to have figured it all out.  I still don't understand.  I still ache.  But I have been comforted.

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved, and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held

I could go on and on and share with you all the songs, verses, and stories that have helped me sort through it all, and maybe someday I will. 

For now, I will leave you with this (from David Crowder)


At the start, He was there.
In the end, He'll be there.
And after all our hands have wrought, He forgives.


All is lost, find Him there.
After night, dawn is there.
And after all falls part, He repairs.


Everything has changed
Things will never be the same
We will never be the same
But the GLORY of it all is He is here
With redemption for us all that we may live
For the glory of it all.

He is here, and our hope endures.
If all is lost for you, I pray that He will be found.

Lord, increase our faith.