anxiety

Sitting in bed with a newborn baby boy cuddled on my chest and tears flowing. I was blissfully happy, but something felt off. I remember Googling "postpartum anxiety" and as I read the signs and symptoms I kept saying "that's me" through tears. Can't quiet your mind. Can't settle down. Can't relax. That's me. Feel like you have to be doing something all of the time. That's me. You are worried, really worried, all of the time. That's me. You are afraid that this is your new reality and you have lost the old you forever. That's definitely me.

It was hard to feel this way. I had the baby I wanted so badly and I loved him, but I felt off. I pushed it down for months until family began to say things like "you aren't yourself." And I couldn't deny that I wasn't myself.

It took all the courage I had, but one morning while I was brushing my teeth I walked into our bedroom and trying to steady my voice and unsuccessfully keep the tears at bay, I told Taylor I needed help. I needed counseling. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Do it! Whatever you need."

I think there is such a wrong culture in the American church that going to counseling affirms that you aren't trusting in the Lord. And it's bull. Good Christian counseling can help you thwart the efforts of Satan to keep you stagnant and in a dark place. And that is what I needed. I found through counseling that, although I thought this was just a symptom of being postpartum, that there was a pattern of anxiety in my life through childhood into adulthood. Quitting things I felt not good at. Not trying things because I thought I would fail. Endless nights as a child sneaking into my parents room to sleep on their floor. Crippling fear when Taylor would travel and I was home alone with the kids. A pattern of Satan speaking lies into my heart and mind and me just believing them.

I loved my counselor and counseling. It helped tremendously. And then I got pregnant and had another baby. And my old enemy postpartum anxiety showed up again. I had the tools this time, but it doesn't mean I was always successful and I didn't struggle. I will always be fighting this battle.

I've always said I am a behind the scenes person when it comes to our church plant. Taylor is the upfront guy. But God. In a roundabout way I ended up leading a Bible study of young mamas from our church. And the study we are currently doing is called "Let's all be Brave." Through tears I told my group that I've never seen myself as worthy to lead in ministry. I counted myself out. I always count myself out. But God.

Our study was about Gideon (how appropriate) and how he counted himself out when approached. He was called "mighty warrior" by the Lord and yet he kept saying how he was the lowest of all, unworthy. But God saw him differently. Oh man, if only I looked at myself how God looked at me. Called myself how He called me. Anxiety would have no room to grow.

We've been singing a song at church recently and the first time they played it, I knew God was making this a resounding theme in my life right now.

I will not be anxious, Jesus, you are near

The peace of God surrounding me, and casting out all fears

The hand that holds the heavens, is the mighty hand that saves

The voice that calms the stormy seas

Is calling me by name

I'm singing in the victory, the victory of the cross

I'm resting in the shadow, or your redeeming love

I'm standing on the promise, the promise of new life

'Cause I am yours forever, and Jesus, you are mine

Oh Jesus, you are mine

What I've learned is it's ok. It's ok to admit you are not ok. It's ok to admit you need help. But, it's also necessary to call it what it is. The enemy. Screaming lies into our minds and shaming us into a place of lonely isolation. Don't stay there. Find your worth in the only place that matters; in the mighty hand that saves.