My God is all I need.

There will likely be a time in our Christian journeys when, like Jacob, we will wrestle with God all night long…But there must eventually come a dawn when we say, “Ok, God, You win…Not my will but Thine be done.” – Gary Thomas

There is a simple black and white canvas in a frame that hangs on my dining room wall that states: “Live with eternity in mind.” There is a Bible that sits in my basement beside my prayer chair. There is a playlist of worship music on my phone. There is a group of people I have memorized Scripture with. There is a women’s ministry that I used to write for. There have been convictional reminders to me in small ways, here and there. All of these things, over the past few months, I have ignored…or at the very least…distanced myself from. Someone mentioned to me awhile ago that I haven’t updated my blog lately. My response? “I write about a specific topic and theme. That theme has not been the theme of my life lately. I will not be hypocritical.”

A lot has happened in my life since last Fall, when I last wrote about my desire to trust Jesus in this crazy season. The short version: I stopped trusting.

Choosing to not trust Jesus wasn’t something I just woke up and decided to do one day. In fact, I remember very sleepless nights, agonizing over whether I really could and should trust Him anymore. After all, I had trusted Him. My whole life. And where did it get me? Divorced. Reduced from a full-time mom to a part-time one. Having to work three jobs to afford to live – even with alimony and child support. Alone.

I knew that in my marriage, I was lonely. I had accepted the fact that my marriage would never be what I hoped it could be. Healthy. Affectionate. Devoted. Loving. But I had made my vows and I was faithful to the end. It wasn’t until a few months after my marriage was over that I was offered something I didn’t even know I had longed for. Craved even. Affection. I’ve come to recognize that I have felt starved of physical affection for most of my adult life. I think, as a defense mechanism, I acted as one who didn’t want it, didn’t care for it. Because it’s easier to pretend we don’t care about something than to want it so desperately, and never receive it, isn’t it? So, when it was offered, I willingly accepted it.

It wasn’t an easy decision. I knew it meant distancing myself from God – because, in essence, it was disobedience. And it’s impossible to live contrary to God’s rules and still remain close to Him. So I distanced myself from Him in an effort to relieve the immense loneliness I came to understand I was feeling. And it worked…temporarily.

This decision didn’t just come from a place of loneliness though. It also came from a place of significant fear. Fear of remaining in this lonely existence forever. Fear of the idea of marriage again one day. Fear of becoming entrapped yet again in an unhealthy relationship. So what do you do when, as a Christian, you don’t want to be alone, but you also don’t ever want to get married again? There’s only two logical answers that I could see. 1. You accept and live a life of celibacy and singleness. Or. 2. You form relationships with people that also don’t seem to care much about marriage. I chose option 2. Because of my deep loneliness. And I’m not talking about the kind of loneliness where spending time with a good friend can help. I craved human affection and love. Desperately. A simple touch on the arm, yes. A hug, yes. A passionate kiss, yes. But mostly: A place where I felt loved. Wanted. Desired. Fully known and accepted. At any cost.

Knowing it would ruin any reputation I had built, knowing it would create distance between me and the God I claimed to love, knowing my behavior could negatively affect my children (although, they were not informed of the details), knowing it would cost me my self-respect, knowing that in the end, it would only bring me grief, I chose to live in the moment and appreciate the affection and care that was offered. Knowing it was wrong; I tried not to care.

But…when your faith means more to you than you think it does, you are left with no choice but to care. Over these past few months, every couple of weeks, I would listen to the following song, and I would try and tell myself that its words were true.

“My God is all I need.” I would repeat these words over and over, knowing they were true, yet, I still couldn’t force myself to believe them. The past few months became a battle ground in my mind between ignoring the convictions of the Holy Spirit and letting myself experience what I had longed for, for so many years. But eventually, conviction won out, along with the prayers of some amazing friends and family members. Because even though I was living my life one way – it was not true to who I really was. And I could not keep living in such a dichotomy.

“If any of you wants to be my follower,” he told them, “you must put aside your own pleasures and shoulder your cross, and follow me closely. If you insist on saving your life, you will lose it. Only those who throw away their lives for my sake and for the sake of the Good News will ever know what it means to really live.” – Mark 8:34-35

The truth of the matter is this: living for our own pleasure provides temporary relief from our pain. But it never lasts. It might make us happy for a time. But in the end, there is only grief. True and lasting joy cannot be found apart from Jesus. I know that now. And when that becomes your belief, you have but only one option left: complete and total surrender. And that can be a very scary thing to do. “But God, I trusted you! I followed You and I obeyed You! And THIS is my life?! Why would You ask me to trust You again? HOW could You ask me to trust You again?” The thought of getting married again is terrifying to me – for numerous reasons. Yet, the thought of spending the rest of my life in this deep loneliness also seems unbearable. But it’s not about me. It’s about Him.

Romans 12:1 says “I urge you…in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices…this is your reasonable act of worship.”

“The Greek word translated “reasonable” is the word logikos. In light of the incredible mercy of God poured out on us (past, present, and future mercies), a full and complete sacrifice of our lives is the only logical response we can make.”1

Currently, it’s Easter weekend, and I can’t help but think on Christ’s perfect example of surrender to His Father. It was total and complete. He willingly surrendered His wants to His Father’s will – allowing Himself to be tortured, to be betrayed, to be murdered in such a brutal way. Christ provided the perfect example of what full surrender looks like. And it was because of His surrender and obedience, that I can come boldly into God’s throne room and receive grace and mercy. It is because of His surrender that my sin does not define who I am any longer. It is because of His surrender that I can be forgiven and spend eternity with Him. It is because of His surrender that I can concede, bow down, and surrender my will and wants and fears as well.

So, in short, I have surrendered. Finally. I choose to mark myself as a bondslave to Christ. Fully His. Fully available for His use. Fully trusting in Him to provide what He sees fit for me – even when trusting is a choice that still scares me. I will overcome my fears with my faith.

“Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.” Psalm 73:25 has become my prayer. I want to get to that place where the daily choices to trust that I am forcing myself to make turn into a lifetime of trust. I want to desire Jesus more than anything else in this world. Even if that means trusting Him with what seems like a terrifying future. I want to get to the place where Mary was – where she would willingly give up her dowry and future just to pour it out on Jesus’ feet in an act of pure love and surrender to Him. I’m only at the beginning stages of this. Bowing my knee, surrendering my everything to Him, cautiously, but fully, with tears in my eyes, wordlessly pleading with Him to not let me down. Surrender can be terrifying. But I’m hoping that one day I will be able to say the same thing Nancy Demoss states in her book on Surrender: The Heart God Controls:

“The pathway of surrender is not always an easy one. On occasion, I have found myself in some pretty turbulent waters, as a result of saying Yes to God.  There have been points when it seemed like my little boat was going to capsize. But I have learned that there really is no safer place to be than in His will. And in the midst of the storms, I have found joy – indescribable joy. And blessings more often than I can number – blessings to be enjoyed here and now and the anticipation of eternal blessings that I cannot begin to fathom now. It really is true that “there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.”


Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in endless praise.
Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice and let me sing, always, only, for my King.
Take my lips and let them be filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use every power as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart it is thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord; I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.2

  1. Nancy Leigh Demoss from her book Surrender: The Heart God Controls. ↩︎
  2. Take My Life and Let it Be by Frances Ridley Havergal. ↩︎

Endnote: I share openly and honestly in this blog from my perspective and experience. It is not my intention or desire to speak negatively about my former spouse. I do not blame him for what was.

*I dedicate this blog to Jesus, Who never gives up on us. And also my friends Charity and Janeen who didn’t give up on me, who gently encouraged me, listened to me, prayed for me, and walked alongside me, even when they didn’t agree with me. Proverbs 17:17 says “A friend loves at all times.” Thank you for being there for me when I needed you the most.

Minivans, Vomit, and Frozen – What They Taught Me About Fear

I must have only been 10 or 11, but I clearly remember sitting on the floor of a friend’s van (we could do that 20 years ago if the seat belts were all occupied) and one of the children wouldn’t stop crying.  I didn’t get it.  We had just left his cousin’s house, not far from his own.  He could visit anytime he wanted; he could see them again the next day.  WHY was he crying?  Let me re-phrase: Why was he SCREAMING?  He happened to be sitting on the seat directly parallel to my spot on the floor, so my left ear received the full extent of his piercing, screaming sobs.  My eyes were wide.  I stared straight ahead, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why this 4-ish year old wouldn’t shut up.  In only a matter of, I’m sure, a few seconds, I could no longer hear my own thoughts, and I lost it.

“(Insert child’s name), SHUT UP!”  I shouted.  It only seemed logical to shout so he could hear me over his own screaming.  Immediately, both his mother and my mother shouted my name, scolding me.  It’s somewhat humorous looking back on the situation now, but it also serves as the earliest memory I have of “too much input”, a phrase my psychiatrist terms, “ADHD”.

A large part of ADHD, for me, is the complete inability to process my current surroundings/situations in the same manner or at the same rate that most people can.  For example, most people I know can drive a car and listen to a screaming child in the backseat, simultaneously.  Heck, some people can even do it while carrying on a conversation with another adult or listening to incessant, repetitive, and very annoying children’s music.  But I can’t.  No, really!  I’m incapable of processing those things.  My brain turns to fuzz.  Imagine, if you will, using the old “bunny-ears” antenna and the channel you wanted just wouldn’t receive or come in clearly.  The channel would be an annoyingly loud, scratchy sound and the screen would flicker a black/white/grey mess.  That is what my brain does when more than 2-3 things are happening around me at once.  I don’t “recept”, or process.  I shut down.  That’s when anxiety takes over.

Skip back to age 8 or 9.  My head hung over the toilet bowl while I vomited.  No stomach flu.  Just “nerves”.  I knew my dad was on his way to come pick me up for the 9 hour drive to his parent’s acreage for the week…over the Christmas holiday…yet again.  It wasn’t that those visits were terrible; sometimes they were OK.  But let’s just say my fondest memories of those visits were the late night cups of tea and endless games of Skip-Bo (or Scrabble) I played with my Gramma.  To this day, I don’t know why I was so nervous for those trips, nor do I care to over-analyze the “why” behind it, but I believe that trip in particular accounts for my earliest recollection of anxiety.

Fast-forward to today.  I have good days but lately, it seems, that the bad days tend to be more often than not.  “Bad days” are the ones filled with anxiety.  So much so, that the simple thought of driving to the city (only 20 minutes away) is enough to keep me at home.  Even when we are out of the grocery essentials, we stay home.  And what if the kids don’t behave picture-perfectly while in public?  We should stay home.

Let me paint the picture clearly for you:  My children do get along sometimes, but for the most part, each wants what the other has and when they can’t have it, a melt-down begins, usually by both children, crying or screaming at each other.  Hair has been pulled, faces have been hit, skin has been pinched, tears have rolled.  On a good day, I can process what is happening and put a stop to it immediately.  But on the bad days, all it takes is for that one blood-curdling scream to be voiced, and mommy loses it.  Again, the only logical thing to do is shout over the noise in order to be heard.  “STOP SCREAMING!  STOP PINCHING! DON’T PULL HAIR! STOP PUSHING! PUT IT BACK! LET GO, NOW!”  My almost-daily vocabulary.  It’s exhausting…and loud.  When you stay at home all day, every day, shouting the same things over and over, you tend to get…anxious.  To keep my sanity and to keep the peace (and quiet), I have allowed (too much) t.v. and screen time over the past few weeks.  Let’s just call that a coping method.  But you see, in today’s society, you can’t allow your kids to watch even a small amount of television without feeling some measure of guilt, because every mother knows (and has probably been told a few times) that the “American Academy of Pediatrics strongly urges parents to strictly limit screen time…It will fry their brains, they aren’t ready to handle it developmentally”, bla, bla, bla.  Yes, we know!  So even in our attempt to get some guilt-free sanity, there’s still an inkling of guilt.  It never really goes away, so neither does our insanity…or anxiety.

It’s been in our “too much screen time” weeks that we have had a re-surge of the movie, Frozen.  Since hearing Elsa’s song, Let It Go, when first released in 2013, I’ve often wished I could be like her.  For the few of you who haven’t seen the film, let me paraphrase:  Elsa has magical powers.  She turns things to ice.  Get it?  Frozen?  Anyway, she can use her powers for fun and for good, but when she uses her powers (or when they escape her) out of fear, damage occurs.  She kept her powers hidden for years until they escaped from her (out of fear) on her Coronation Day, in front of everyone.  So she fled.  When she’s leaving all she’s ever known to be “free”, she willingly uses her powers and sees what she’s actually capable of doing – creating beautiful winter-wonderlands, a magical ice-palace, Olaf (a snowman which comes to life), etc., and all the while, she sings the famous song, Let It Go.  For some reason her words resonate with me:

The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation
and it looks like I’m the Queen

The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn’t keep it in;
Heaven knows I’ve tried

Don’t let them in,
don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel,
don’t let them know
Well, now they know

(Chorus)

It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all

It’s time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me,
I’m free

Chorus:
Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don’t care
what they’re going to say
Let the storm rage on
The cold never bothered me anyway

I’ve always wished I could “let it go” when it comes to things that have caused seemingly unwarranted anxiety, worry, or stress, but apparently I don’t posses the same powers as Elsa, nor can I simply run away from my responsibilities, become a hermit, and do what I want, when I want…although I have certainly tried at times.

Recently, I was thinking over how I have allowed my two-year-old (who throws a massive temper tantrum the very millisecond he doesn’t get what he wants) to control my life.  I don’t go into town because I don’t want to listen to the screaming fit that occurs when he drops his teddy bear, gets mad about it, so I almost drive off the highway to retrieve it and hand it back to him, he gets mad, throws it down again, and screams and cries about that fact all over again.  Because…I can’t be in a vehicle with a screaming child.  Therefore, I don’t go to the city.  I don’t dare volunteer at my daughter’s school.  My social anxiety certainly plays into that, but I think the real reason is I avoid it is, chances are, my son would have a tantrum, and we would end up leaving anyway…so why go through the hassle, have the glares or stares of other parents and teachers, just to walk out in shame?

A few days ago, while driving to the city – a situation that causes anxiety to begin with – along with my two children (who were getting antsy in the backseat), I was already incredibly anxious about an upcoming health appointment – the necessary reason for the trip.  I knew I wasn’t processing well that morning and needed to focus on driving (Saskatoon drivers…they’re crazy), so I popped in the only kid’s CD that I can handle, which also happens to be my kids’ favourite (and therefore, keeps them quiet-ish).  The first song came on and immediately the fighting subsided.  They started “seat-dancing” to the beat, and I started singing along (it’s weird…but sometimes that actually helps me to focus on my task at hand).  Then it hit me.  All of my anxiety had dissipated.  It was gone!  My situation hadn’t really changed though.  I was still driving in the city, the kids were still making noise (thankfully happy noises at this point), and I was still going to a dreaded appointment.  What changed?

My focus.

Take a listen.  Seriously!  Do it! (This is the song to which we were bouncing along.)

 

I love Brad’s music (and I’m proud to say we attended the same college years ago) but this song in particular really changes your focus, doesn’t it?  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, what you’re going through, what you’re feeling, because when you start praising the Lord even in the midst of your circumstances, no room is left for anything else.  It was at that moment that some of Elsa’s Let It Go played in my head, “It’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small, and the fears that once controlled me, can’t get to me at all“.  Silly mommy.  My two-year-old hasn’t been controlling me, my actions, or even my re-actions.  It’s been fear.

Anxiety is driven by fear.  Fear of the what-if.  Fear of the what-if-not.  Fear of the can’t.  Fear of success.  Fear of unsuccess.  Fear of the past, present, and sometimes, even the future.

Fear.  It truly is crippling, isn’t it?

The funny part about Elsa is that, only a short while after running away to “freedom”, she found out that she really wasn’t free at all.  When she fled, she left a wake of destruction.  Her hometown was covered in ice and snow.  Her people were freezing and starving.  When told to come back and fix the problem, she refused (out of fear), stating she didn’t know how.  She only knew fear and fear was her enemy.

In the end, she almost killed her sister because of her powers…because she allowed fear to take control.  The only way to break the negative impact of her powers was “true love”…of course, because it’s Disney, right?  But instead of a magical “true-love’s kiss”, only an act of true love was required.  Even though Anna was dying, she used her last ounce of strength to save Elsa’s life…the action of true love.

John 15:13 (NIV)
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

In that moment, the sum of Elsa’s fears stopped.  In that moment, the swirling snow stopped.  The howling winds stopped.  Everyone just stopped.  And Elsa wept.  Her worst fear had come to fruition.  She thought Anna had died.  Only in her burden of grief and despair, in the absence of fear, did Anna slowly begin to breathe, and the world around them slowly began to thaw, because “only an act of true love could thaw a frozen heart“.

1 John 4:18 (Msg)
There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear.

When our focus shifts to be on Him alone, the author of “well-formed love”, there simply is no room for fear.  Focusing on Him creates that distance where everything else, the little matters of life, and sometimes even the big ones, become a lot more clear.  “It’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small, and the fears that once controlled me can’t get to me at all.”

Philippians 4:13 (Msg)
Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.

Granted, there are times when my anxiety will take over, or should I say, fear?  But acknowledging the fear and asking God for His help to take a stand against it, can make a powerful and impactful difference in one’s life.  So that’s precisely what I did.  Even on a “low-processing” day, shortly after having the stomach flu, I was determined that fear was not going to have the upper hand in my life on that particular day.  I decided to pack up the kids, drive into the city, while it was snowing, and pick up an order from the bookstore – a task I had put off accomplishing for days…due to fear.  But, I did it!  And the kids may have screamed at each other for a bit in the back seat, and the snow may have been blowing across the highway, and my son may have had another disastrous diarrhea diaper in the bookstore, and I may have even met my husband for lunch (around naptime), and my son may even have had a massive meltdown when I went to order my lunch, and I may have encountered the stares of fellow patrons, and I may have had to take him outside the restaurant for a stern “talking-to”, and I may have had a crappy lunch when it finally did arrive, and I may have had cranky kids on the way home.  But, I did it. (Insert sigh of relief and slight smile)  I acknowledged my fear.  I took a stand against it, and I would say, for the most part anyway, I kept my cool.  It wasn’t easy.  It wasn’t even enjoyable.  But it was an absolute refusal to allow fear to control my life.  And it was only possible with (my daily dosage of medication, and) a full reliance and focus on Him.  The results were amazing.  My attitude and even my general, daily anxiety had changed for the remainder of that day.  I was happier, more content, more confident, more fully alive.

Anxiety will take it’s toll on me again, I’m sure, and because it is a mental health disorder, there will be days where I will feel completely incapable of controlling the fears that drive my anxiety.  And on those days, I might have to stay home.  But you can be sure that the next day will be met with sheer determination from the moment I awake, to acknowledge the fear, to put my foot down, and take control of it, because my focus will be on Him.  And if you find yourself ever in need of a little help in that area, be sure to crank Brad’s song and get praising the Lord.  It will change your focus from fear to instead, the Perfect Love, Who casts out all fear.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus.  Look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.

Because He lives…I can face tomorrow.  Because He lives…all fear is gone.  Because I know He holds the future.  And life is worth the living, just because He lives.