For most of my life, I’ve been a worrier. I would worry about finances, my children’s health, my husband being far away in the military, and just about every other thing under the sun. I don’t know if my worry is a product of my illness or if I am just a worrier by nature. Either way, it has caused me a great deal of anxiety and needless sleepless nights.
My worry really kicked into gear when the 911 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center occurred. My husband was in the military at that time and he called and told me he was going to war and didn’t know anything else. Oh my, what a day. I had to pull myself together enough to tell our four children who were 12, 10, 7, and 4 at the time that we were at war and Daddy was going to fight. Try explaining to a four-year-old about war. Not an easy nor enviable task. This time frame ushered in a slew of symptoms I was not equipped to handle. My life became out of control. My worry became a beast that colored my days. Fear became a constant companion.
I was not serving the Lord at this time, which I can say only made the situation worse. I didn’t know where to turn for help. I was treated for depression which made the worry all the worse because it caused me to go manic. Now I was worried and manic. It is a wonder I survived.
Fast forward to 2003. My husband is home, my children are back to a normal life and my illness is raging! My husband, poor guy, didn’t know what to think. He only knew I was not the same woman he left. My worry was out of control. I worried when he would go to the recruiting office for fear it would be bombed. I worried when my children went out fearing they were somehow targets for enemy attack. I worried about myself that I was going to implode at any time. This was the time I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. That same time, the Lord met me in my deepest, darkest place. He gently brought me out of my place of despair and filled me with a hope I had not had in decades. He also spoke this to my heart… “worry and worship cannot exist in one heart. One has to go”. I understood immediately that my worry habit was causing my heart to be divided. I needed to make a change.
I chose to worship. And, you know what? My worry lessened. I was no longer controlled by my out of control emotions. God was setting me upon a rock and my life was beginning to take shape in Him. It took years of prayer, medication, and therapy to get myself to a place where I no longer worried about things. I realized I have no control over what happens, but God is in control, at all times, of all things. Whew! What a relief to finally know and know for certain that my worry will not change things. It will only cause me anxiety and stress which fuels my illness. The Lord has faithfully and methodically delivered me from worry. It took some time, but I can honestly say, I no longer worry. If I am concerned with a situation, I take it to God, leave it with Him and go about my business. I have never been more at ease.
My husband and my family are ever so grateful to God for giving them back the wife and mother they once had. And I am so grateful that He has brought me through, stronger and He will do the same for you. You need but ask.