I'm not usually a blogger. I don't really understand the whole concept of it, but I kind of feel that this is one of those things that had to be typed and put 'out there' as a faith thing.
God has been doing some very big stuff in me recently. For at least 6 years, I've struggled with anxiety and panic attacks; more simply summed up as 'fear'. At my best, it's felt like I've lived with a niggling voice somewhere in the back of my head. At my worst, I've been almost completely confined to the house (preferably with my eyes closed and under a duvet).
One particularly unpleasant moment I would never like to relive, saw me sat in my car outside Sainsbury's a few years ago, waiting to go in and buy some milk. As I went to leave the car, I froze and couldn't get out. I was shivering, sweating, and (most frustratingly) had absolutely no idea why. This illustrates the fear I've faced brilliantly; irrational, illogical and near-crippling.
So for years I have been on and off of antidepressants, hoping each time that they will help this fear to disappear once and for all. Although they have helped to 'take the edge off' (to use the doctors' words), it has never gone for good.
After a relatively 'good' couple of years, fear came back with a vengeance about 6 weeks ago. I felt like I had been tackled from the side, and caused me to crumble completely. I couldn't cope with another exhausting, seemingly endless battle with learning how to cope with fear.
Something different happened this time. One particular Tuesday night, some guys gave me some pictures at a church meeting. Pictures about the garments that God had already prepared for me; faith, courage, joy, a sound mind. Not fear.
Over the next few weeks, my wife and I stuck every Bible verse we could find about overcoming fear, around the house (I needed a lot of reminders) and I spoke these over myself at every opportunity.
I felt like God began to give me (or at least I began to be able to hear/see) words and pictures again for the first time in years.
On Sundays, God was doing something with the fearful; breaking off, cleaning out, holding up. It began to feel like Sundays were a time when God was saturating me with his healing to get through the next few days.
Yesterday morning, I found myself at the front of church again. I had responded to a call about God breaking off fear and a I saw a picture of my heart, with many strings tied to it. There were scissors cutting through these strings but not all of them were cut. There were still one or two to go.
In the evening, God continued. For the first time, I became angry that even in the times when I had felt like I wasn't so fearful, my life had been stolen from me; my dreams, my calling, my character had all been extinguished over the years; sometimes so gradually that I hadn't noticed the flames had gone out.
The rest of the church gathered around a few of us and roared with us. I saw pictures of Jesus as the king, sovereign and supreme; stronger than anything and anyone. As I felt God say that this fear was being taken from me for once and for all, I saw a picture of a heavy rock, sinking to the bottom of murky water.
So, this blog is a bit of an 'in-your-face' moment to fear. The most tempting option is to see how the next few days go and hope that it mirrors what I hope God did last night. The most sensible option is to put this out there for people to read, and trust that God keeps his word and his promises. He never leaves and he never forsakes.
