Choosing His Best

In 1999 I was suffering from a deeply wounded and broken heart. The man I thought was the love of my life broke up with me in Jerusalem three days into a two-week vacation together. Little did I know at the time that God was using this experience to prepare me for a new kind of life.

Nine months later in California, I was still suffering and desperately seeking comfort in church after a decade away. One Sunday our pastor asked the simple question, “What is in your heart that keeps you from a relationship with Christ?” It quickly dawned on me that I was continuing to harbor and nurture my desire for this broken relationship. I felt like God was asking me to hand over this relationship to Him.

As I knelt at the communion table and prayed that God would release me from my broken heart, a physical lifting came over me. It felt like He literally lifted the pain out of my heart and body. From that moment on, I was healed from my sorrow and never once desired that relationship again. It was a miraculous healing. In that moment I truly became a believer in God and His powerful love for me.

After that healing experience I was filled with joy and curiosity about my newfound relationship with Christ. Although I had grown up in the Methodist church, I was unaware of what a personal relationship with Jesus looked or felt like. I considered the loss of my relationship with my ex-boyfriend a small sacrifice for the joy and life I was given afterwards.

I’d like to say that my life was filled with only good things from that point on, but, instead, following that conversion moment were five very lonely and defining years. I call them my desert years. For the first time since I was 15, I didn’t have a boyfriend and I wasn’t surrounded by a large group of friends. The social and emotional pillars that once supported me were gone. I felt like I had to redefine all aspects of my heart and mind. God gave me lots of time and room to do that.

Although there were many days filled with tears and wondering when my time in the desert would end, I had a deep conviction that I was following the right path and waiting for God’s best. As I learned to read the scriptures, I continued to find solace and hope in His promise of good plans for me. He changed my motivation for finding a husband from wanting someone to fulfill me to wanting someone who was designed to give me a godly marriage that would glorify Him and His purposes.    

Lamentations 3:24-26 (NIV)

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”  The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

And God delivered. He brought me not a perfect husband, but one that was perfect for me. I am still thankful every day for His provision. I still marvel at how good He was to me, and I am so thankful that I waited for His provision rather than choosing less than His best.

James 1:2-4 (NIV)

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

Of course I am not at the end of my testing journey. Perseverance has not finished its work in me yet. God continues to put new challenges in my life to deepen my faith and trust in Him. Yet I find the journey is worth the cost. I encourage those of you who are continuing to wait for a spouse, a job, children, healing, or other things to continue to wait with hope, patience, and wisdom for God’s best for you.

John 10:10 (NKJV)

I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.  

Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

James 1:12 (NIV)

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

Recovering from Post-Natal Anxiety

I used to be a really fun person. In fact, my nickname in college was Fun Molly. But those are some stories for another time. Then I got married and had three kids and Fun Molly seemed to disappear and she was replaced with a person who worries a lot and likes to keep a tight lid on the chaos. Some might even call me anxious.

But it was after the birth of our youngest daughter that I experienced a form of anxiety like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and hope to never again. 

After losing our son, Joseph, when I was 8 ½ months pregnant, and experiencing that excruciatingly painful loss, we were ecstatic to have a healthy baby girl born a little over two years later. The pregnancy went well and I was overjoyed to bring home baby Kate.

My mom came out to help for a week and all was well until Kate woke up one morning at 5:30am. That’s pretty normal for a newborn, right? Well, suddenly the excitement of having a newborn took on a new angle. I had been so focused on having another baby, I had forgotten what having a baby actually meant.

What it meant was I would be up multiple times during the night, waking up early in the mornings, having tired days, being tied down to nap schedules, and no weekends away for starters. I started thinking about how I just delayed myself from returning to any type of career by another 5 years. I wouldn’t be able to go to Vegas with some girlfriends who were planning a trip. Other friends would go to Palm Desert without us that year. Suddenly having a newborn didn’t seem so fun. And I felt trapped with no escape. And my anxiety started to build.

In addition, I’m a person who needs a solid 8 hours of sleep to function well. I LIKE my sleep. I NEED my sleep. And so I started worrying about how I wasn’t going to get enough sleep each night. I would lie awake, while my baby slept (note the irony here), wondering when my baby would wake up. And when she did, I’d feed her and lay back down and start wondering when my baby would wake up again. I was averaging around 3-4 hours of sleep each night at that point.

It’s surprising how quickly a mind can spiral out of control. Within a matter of days I was a diagnosable basket case. I felt like I had drank 12 pots of coffee and I couldn’t come down off my high. I was starting to be very concerned about my mental state and whether I would be a safe person for my children to be around. Which really scared me. It scared me so much that I started reaching out for help in any direction I could.

I started with an OB-GYN, who prescribed me Ambien. But it didn’t help. I was still lying awake at night. And by this point I was getting desperate.

So I started telling my family, friends and anyone who would listen how stressed out I was. Some of the not-so-helpful advice I got included, “you should eat some chocolate” and “you should pray more”. But part of my problem was that I was praying constantly, especially during the long nights. And God didn’t seem to be listening or answering my prayers. I have never been in a situation where I felt so completely out of control of my mind and body. It was taking me to a dark place I had never experienced.  And I was desperate to escape. I felt betrayed by God that he would leave me so bereft of comfort in my time of desperate need.

In addition to the medication, my OB-GYN recommended a post-natal therapist and meeting with her was my first step toward recovery. First she suggested that I didn’t need to treat my sleep problem, but I need to treat the anxiety instead. She called my condition post-natal anxiety, which is similar to, but different from postpartum depression. She suggested I started taking Ativan, an anti-anxiety medication. Within the fist 30 minutes of taking it, I began to relax for the first time in weeks. Which felt wonderful.

Then I decided I needed to start exercising again to help release some of my pent-up energy and anxiety. One of my first days back at the gym, I was on the elliptical watching the evangelist Joyce Meyer on TV, hoping for a word of comfort. She was talking about surrendering to God and the message really hit home for me.

As a self-proclaimed control freak, I was really struggling with the fact that I had no control over this fear and anxiety that was consuming me. I have the life-long habit of suppressing my feelings and it struck me for the first time that instead of suppressing my feelings, I needed to release my feelings and surrender them to God. So I began the practice of physically laying down in a posture of surrender and began to mentally release my tension and anxiety through my hands and feet. I would spend 10-15 minutes doing this a couple of times a week after exercising. I would also try to do this in whatever posture I was in, wherever I was, whenever I started to feel anxious.

As a result, I began to feel a mental and physical shift in myself, by recognizing and accepting the fact that I am not in control. In fact, it’s a good thing I’m not in control, because it takes a huge burden off my shoulders.

It took a combination of many things - learning to surrender, humbling myself to take medication, and reaching out for help, to find relief and healing. And I thank God for His provision of those things. This passage from Psalm 31 captures the essence of my journey, “I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place.“

For more information on post-natal anxiety or postpartum depression click here.