when life goes on and good comes from evil

As I closed out my last counseling session in March, I mentioned to my counselor that there were still a few things I was a little (or a lot) leery of encountering.  One of these things was the one year anniversary of when all of this started.  It felt like a silly thing to be worried about, but she assured me it was completely normal for her clients to feel that way.  A one year anniversary of the darkest time in your life is a big deal.

As July 20th, 2013 approached, I felt myself feeling more and more at peace with it.  It was surprising.  Here's a rundown of what happened that day:

-ran 3 miles

-ate breakfast made by colt

-took a family trip to the outlet mall

-watched Duke go down the slide a million times

-Duke napped

-we worked on our living room

-listened to pandora (the Semi-Charmed Life station)

-ate paninis for dinner

-playtime with Duke

-put Duke to bed

-Colt went and got us snow cones to eat while we finished texturing walls

-we went to bed

A year ago, I would've never predicted a day like this in my future - a normal day.  Nothing crazy happened.  Not once did I have anxiety or fear or any of it.  That's pretty much been the case for the last several months for me, so it wasn't necessarily anything special.  But knowing that it was the one year anniversary can play games with your mind.  I'm so grateful that with prayer and self-control, it was anxiety-free.  It was a fun day and I was able to enjoy the really good things in my life.

I'm documenting all of this to prove to myself and whoever else needs it that life does go on.  Often, I have to refer back to what I wrote about the hope of spring.  When we feel like we are in the midst of the impossible or surrounded by darkness or covered by devastation, we just have to remember that it will not be winter forever.  We must press forward and find the good in the evil.

To me, this is the great part about God.  People often wonder about his goodness because our world can be a pretty terrible place.  But if you look closer, there are a lot of redeeming stories that come out of horrible situations.  That's how God works.  No, it doesn't make those horrible things any better or any easier when you're in them.  But knowing that He works evil out for our good offers some hope.  We just have to be willing to lean into that truth and search for it.

My story could've taken several wrong turns.  (And still could, I suppose.)  But this isn't something I give myself credit for.  It's by the grace of God that I was able to find Him in all of it.  I could've chosen other paths and ways to make myself feel better about life.  Evil could've grown into more evil.  Instead, my life was lead into a place of more peace, more trust, more joy, and more hope. 

I have hope - not because of time passing or bodies healing or feelings changing.  But because all of the hope I soak up comes from Jesus and who He is to me and who He was to me that day.  He took all of that pain away as if to say, "I'm right here.  Hope in me. "  He's real and God's real and the power of the Spirit is real. 

It's really neat how God orchestrated all of this craziness to go down in my birthday month.  Of course, originally I thought that was a terrible idea.  But now seeing the other side, there's a new kind of "life" that I get to celebrate in July of each year.  I get to celebrate the day I experienced the meaning of freedom in Christ.  I get to celebrate the day I stopped trying to control my life.

Thanks for reading all of my story this past year and I look forward to writing more as pieces continue to come together.

my last visit with the counselor

If you could go back, change all of this, and act like it had never happened, would you?  

This was one of the last questions my counselor asked me.

On Thursday, March 13th, I attended my last counseling session.  Together, we decided I was ready.  Of course, her door is always open.  I'm always welcome to schedule appointments on an as-needed basis.  But the regular sessions I was having with my counselor every other week are now done.

I drove away feeling like I had conquered the hardest thing in my life - a feeling I could've never imagined back in July when all of this started.  It was sunny, my windows were down, and I was a new person.

The song "Hold On" came through my car speakers and I had a little moment.  I know - that song is pretty cheesy and all I can think about is Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph at the end of Bridesmaids.  But for this moment, it actually made a lot of sense.

I know that there is pain
but you hold on for one more day
and break free the chains

Chains. 

That's exactly what I felt like I had taken on.  On July 20, 2012, a load of chains was dropped on my shoulders and I had no idea where they came from or what to do with them.  I didn't know who I was going to be anymore.  I honestly thought my life was over.

It takes desperation to finally call a counselor.  Never before in my life had I ever felt the need to do this.  But one day, I decided that this burden could not be carried alone.  I needed help.  I was ready for a change.

I remember the first day I walked into the lobby of my counselor's office.  A waterfall was trickling, quiet piano music was playing (which sweetly reminded me of my mom's piano playing), and the walls were painted with warm colors.  My eyes filled with tears as soon as I stepped foot into that room. 

I hadn't even met the counselor and I was already crying.

But it was the most peaceful place I'd been in for the past 3 months.  My anxiety hit in July and I didn't see a counselor until October.  My life was chaotic and for this one tiny little moment, I got a glimpse of peace.  I almost couldn't handle it.  I was so thirsty for calm and peace in my life, I would've done anything for it.  Anything.

The first visit was a lot of me doing the ugly cry and talking through my tears and saying things like, "Sorry, I'm crying," to my counselor.  (Because, you know, counselors are really inconvenienced by crying.)  I told her my whole story.  I told her everything I knew to tell her.  I wished so badly she could pull out a magic wand and eliminate all of the anxiety from my mind, body, and heart in one instant.  But this would be a long road.

She told me that someday I'd be on the other side of this.  It was hard to imagine and, quite frankly, I didn't really believe her.

Sure enough, after about 11 counseling sessions over the course of 5 months, I am on the other side.  Anxiety and fear no longer define me.  They haven't left forever, but they do not control me.  They do not deserve a home in this body, heart, or mind. 

I'm still piecing it all together. 

There are "a-ha" moments. 
There are anxious moments. 
There are many moments when I celebrate and bask in this victory. 
There are moments when something creeps in and I feel like I could quickly be swept away into the deep grasp of fear. 

It's not 100% over and it won't ever be.  But I've learned practical ways to manage it.  And I've learned that my hope is only in the Lord.

My counselor closed our last session out with these three questions:

What did you learn about yourself?  
What did you learn about God?  
If you could go back, change all of this, and act like it had never happened, would you?   

When she asked that last question, I felt all my wheels turning.  What if I could give all of this back?  The darkest time of my life, the most scared I've ever been, the loneliest I'd ever felt, the times of physical, uncontrollable trembling, the emotional chaos, the mental confusion and abandonment.

Believe it or not, my answer was no.  

Who I am today in Christ is so much greater than those struggles.  I am aware of my humanity, my sin, and my weaknesses, but I am also wrapped so tightly and fully in God's goodness, light, and care.  I am in great need of God.  I never want to un-learn that.