The Truth About Anxiety

Anxiety.

I wish I could tell you it’s never an issue for me, but I can’t. To be real with you, I’ve battled it like the plague since childhood. I know what it’s like to hide out at home because of a thousand insecurities. To walk away from a conversation, analyzing a gazillion potential repercussions of whatever clumsy statement spilled out of my mouth. To agonize over criticisms, and have the opinions of way too many people living in my head. To panic over perceived rejection. To second-guess my every move, and live in constant sense of “tug-of-war”. I know all about the loneliness it creates from strangling every blessed attempt to create friendships and build relationships.

I know all about anxiety.

But a little over a year ago I took some time to pray specifically about anxiety. I didn’t understand why, but at the time, it seemed to have exponentiated significantly. It had become such a big deal in my life that I was struggling to function. I asked the Lord to help me understand. I wanted to get to the bottom of it because I wanted to overcome it; not just keep “living with it” and “beating it back with a broom,” so to speak.

I felt the Lord impress one word upon my heart that day. To this day I feel the painful twinge of reproof when I recall it.

Control.

As the weight of the word sunk in, the very thought made me wince…

“Oof… really?”

Control is one of those words I was vocal about. Like most people, I had experienced the unsavory aspects of “controlling people” here and there, and never in a million years had I ever thought such a word could be applied to me. The very idea left me feeling a bit gut-punched, but I let Him speak to me and I began to understand.

Anxiety reflects our desire to control things.

As the Lord walked me through all of the things that felt out of my control, I understood that even if I wasn’t actively trying to control anything, that seed was there. It was that niggling bit of panic I felt when I perceived that someone might not think what I hoped they would think, and it was that subtle internal pressure to change their mind in some way. It was that frenetic impulse to go around and “fix” things. To defend and redeem myself. To try harder and do more at all costs to regain any approval lost. To mop up messes I thought others were making. To make it clear where I stood. To intercept someone before they embarrassed me.

I wasn’t in control in any of those areas… but deep down, sliding under the radar, was something within me that wanted to be.  

I wanted to feel safe, and liked, and comfortable and I didn’t.

I wanted desperately to change that. It was that self-nature, wanting to be in charge, wanting to find ways to make everything in my world right again, when I ought to have been humbly submitting in each instance, and trusting the Lordship of Jesus Christ. I ought to have taken every care to Him and left it at His feet, and let Him orchestrate my affairs however He saw fit… but I wasn’t doing that. I was fighting for the reins. Wrestling them out of His hands.

I’m going to talk to you about something crazy.

Have you ever met a narcissist?

I doubt many of us have met one that truly meets the diagnostic criteria. I’ve heard that true narcissists are more like serial killers and family annihilators, and psychologists assure us that they are actually quite rare. The term, however, is also a misappropriated buzzword in our culture for anyone that’s hard-to-deal-with in our lives, so I’ll use it in that context. Everyone seems to know someone they would deem a “narcissist”, and if you listen to people talk about them, you would think these people were the most repugnant, irredeemable level of humanity.  They are perceived as so self-consumed and manipulative and controlling and beyond repair that people often don’t even want them in their lives.  

It’s interesting. Do you know what drives that behavior?

Anxiety.

Dreadful, off-the-chain anxiety.

Look it up. Somewhere, deep inside, they have a fear, and the behavior that drives everyone else insane, is them, trying to quell that fear.

It makes me think of a time in our marriage when we were faced with a major decision. In the background, I was trying so hard to be a godly wife, patiently waiting for Mark’s conclusion. Internally, I was a wreck, terrified of the uncertainties, but I had resolved myself not to influence the outcome. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of it too.

Imagine my surprise then, when one day Mark expressed his exasperation with me! He said he felt like I wasn’t giving him any options! I was stunned. (And mortified!) I thought I had been doing quite the opposite. I felt like I had been exerting immaculate restraint, because my flesh really wanted to lay out stipulations and emphatically refuse the unknown. I was a quivering heap of nerves, doing my absolute best to let the matter rest in my husband’s hands. But while I was valiantly preparing to submit and surrender, I was also rattling off, rather thoughtlessly, an endless stream of fears. It was this constant vocalizing of the anxiety I felt, that made Mark feel inhibited, restricted and stressed. I perceived what I was doing as “coping” with a very heavy burden, but I was actually creating a very heavy burden for him.

How wild is that?

You know that verse? 1 John 4:18?

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love…”

It was after that experience that I began to truly understand that verse. Why is there no fear in love? Because fear is your self-nature wrestling for control and there is no place for self in love. Fear seeks to protect self, but Love does not seek her own. (1 Corinthians 13:5) And the actions that stem from our fear feel oppressive to others, because they are rooted in selfishness. That sense of “control” you feel coming from a difficult person is legitimate, because fear is driving them to seize control. But in any relationship, control, whether intentional or not, is one of the most unloving things you can do to another person. Ask anyone that’s been affected by it. It’s selfish and lacks consideration. It’s part of the same family as slavery and captivity. I’m definitely not saying that the presence of anxiety makes anyone a narcissist, even in the relaxed sense, but it’s a poignant example of why perfect love casts out all fear. Because fear is concerned with self, and self is the god we should be crucifying daily.

You know, when thinking of all of this, I find it interesting that the most often repeated negative command from the lips of Jesus in the New Testament, was “Fear not”.

Fear not…

Don’t fear tomorrow. (Matt. 6:34) Don’t fear man. Don’t fear suffering. (Matt. 10:26-28) Don’t fear lack. (Matt. 6:25-34) etc. If you study His interactions with men, over and over, you find Him redirecting individuals to fix their gaze steadfastly on a sovereign Father that knows the number of hairs on our heads, Who sees every sparrow that falls, Who holds all of our tomorrows, Who is powerful enough to meet our every need, Who knows the end from the beginning! He was teaching us that the whole point of following Him, was submitting to His Lordship over our lives. We are supposed to be trusting the Father.  

Trusting Him.

When it comes to our relationship with the Lord, fear is what’s objecting to His character. Fear is resisting the sovereign plan He has orchestrated for our lives. Fear thrusts the reins into the hands of self, and self becomes your god.

When fear prevails, you aren’t even allowing Him to be Lord.  

I began praying, during that period of time, that God would instill in me that “perfect love” because I didn’t want that other chaos in my life. I wish I could say that the Lord magically absolved all of my anxiety that day, but He didn’t. What did happen, is that I re-submitted to His Lordship, and I recommitted myself to truly and fully trusting Him. What followed was one of the wildest storms of my life. I entered a season that turned out to be a rigorous “trust boot camp.” Every day, every hour, was a fresh opportunity to lay my fears at His feet and to trust His sovereign rule in every area of my life.

Overtime, my anxiety did dwindle.

Bit by bit, piece by piece, when I felt the sting of fear, I handed it to the Father. I learned to submit to His Lordship, and allow Him to have His perfect way in my life, even if that felt uncomfortable to me. Even if it didn’t make sense to me. Even if it meant people wouldn’t like me. I learned to let go, put all my energy into pleasing Him, and to walk in peace. Most importantly, I learned to trust His character. To believe He is Who He says He is, and that I am Who He says I am. That by His guidance, I am where He appointed me to be.

I still experience fear.

I’m not impervious to it.

But it’s different now.

Now… Now, every twinge of fear is a moment of grace. An opportunity to surrender. A measure of mercy.

Every time I feel it reach for me, I know I have a Father that I can trust in every step He ordains for me.