As I drove home from my Wednesday night church gathering last night, it occurred to me that some readers may question why a hospital chaplain and pastor would not mention God or prayer in my discussion about how I deal with anxiety.

Well, I suppose that, first of all, I think of it as a given. Talking to and with God is as natural as my morning routine. I give little thought to the steps I perform to take a shower, brush my teeth, or put on my clothes. I just do it. The same can be said about my relationship with God. It just is – it is such a normal and routine part of my daily life that I give the process little thought.

Second, my writing is not meant for Christians alone. Although I would never discount the power of prayer or the immense joy and healing and satisfaction that comes from a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, I am not naive enough to think that everyone is exactly where I am spiritually. Some are WAY more advanced and others have zero want of what I have in Christ. Many of the stories and suggestions I offer can be utilized by anyone, regardless of their faith preference.

Third, as I have noted in other blogs about my writing, my purpose in my writing is to demonstrate how Christians are not immune to life’s struggles. We (meaning general Western Christianity) do a wonderful job of selling the glory of salvation. However, we (meaning general Western Christianity) do a detrimental job in preparing those new to the faith about what happens when the initial high wears off. It is as if we are selling snake oil and people are no longer buying it.

So, as someone who has been desperately in love with Jesus since I was a toddler who has also suffered from mental illness just as long, I have set out to use my gift of writing to creatively fight against this fallacy.

The truth is, giving our life to Christ does not guarantee an easy, pain-free life. On the contrary. Those of us with normal human illnesses are not always cured. Those battling addictions are not always miraculously remedied. Although such miracles do happen, more often than not, the struggle for us remains after salvation. The difference is that we now have a loving companion who is ALWAYS in our corner. We have this amazing (this wordsmith is at a loss for words to describe how great Jesus is) confidant and friend who never fails us and carries us through our darkest moments in life. My stories show how Christians, too, face hardship, but how our relationship with God gets us through it.

I am a living example of this truth. Life is hard enough as a Christian. I could not imagine going through what I have been through without Him. I think it would be a safe bet to say that I would be dead.

Anyway, with all that said, I will offer some examples of how my faith has carried me through. As I mentioned, I talk to God constantly. After all, that is all prayer is – a conversation with God. We try to make it way too difficult.

The talking is easy. The listening, not so much. It requires 1) that we have given our lives to Jesus and asked him to come to us, 2) that we keep our mouths shut and minds and hearts open, and 3) A LOT of practice and patience.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of spending some quality time with a patient. As we shared common experiences, she asked me how I got through all I have been through. I said simply – slowly. Yep! I am a turtle – in more ways than one.

When my anxiety gets too intense, there are a few additional spiritual steps I take:

1. If time permits, an extended Sabbatical is wonderful. I used to take annual trips to the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky. I spent roughly five days at this silent monastery. It took roughly 2-3 days to “detox” from the noise of the world. On the 3 or 4 day, I got lost (sometimes literally) in the woods across the street. Without fail, I encountered Jesus in the most extraordinary ways. I will share some of those sometime. Unfortunately, since I moved away from Tennessee, making those annual pilgrimages are not as easy and, I hate to admit it, I have made little effort to find a comparable spot in Texas. I should, though. I feel it – the need – the hunger.
2. I keep the radio off on my way to work and let my mind wander where it will. I have found that, in doing so, my brain takes me to places I would never have gone on my own. I have thought about people I hadn’t thought about in a long time and I pray for them. I have worked out a problem I never even knew existed. I have come up with ideas that have turned into projects or stories (read One Step Away). I have even given voice to longings I don’t really want to admit. Although not what most people think of as prayer, I see it as God’s way of communicating with me. Oftentimes, my stress and anxiety come from my inability or unwillingness to let my mind roam free. I invite God into my thoughts and talk to him about some of them.
3. I keep a prayer journal. I write at least a few times a week. When I am feeling especially anxious, I may write every day. My prayer journal acts much like my car quiet times, only more organized. I cannot count how many “aha” moments and healing has come from these entries. There is a lot in there that I would be embarrassed for anyone to read, but God is not just anyone. He is the only one. When I need to get it out, I write it and he takes it.
4. Sometimes I practice what is called prayer breathing. It combines meditation and prayer. Oftentimes, when anxiety and panic set in, our bodies forget to breathe. This not only helps us to breathe, but it invites the Holy Spirit to dwell in us. For me, it works best if I am laying down with my eyes closed. However, it can work sitting up or even standing with eyes open.

Breathing Prayer:

Taking a deep breath in through the nose, I imagine the Holy Spirit filling my body. Some people imagine a color associated with the Holy Spirit.

Yesterday, I mentioned the tapping technique my therapist taught me. The breathing exercise works well with this to pinpoint pain in the body. When I recognize areas of pain, I focus on that part and imagine the Holy Spirit filling that part of my body.

While exhaling, I imagine the stress and anxiety leaving my body. I name it if I know what “it” is. Some people imagine a color associated with the anxiety leaving the body.

Breathe in – feel the Holy Spirit filling the body.

Breathe out – feel the anxiety leaving the body.

Excerpt from my prayer journal:

They told me I could have as much time with her as I wanted. I wanted the world but I could not let her suffer. I had to end it for her. That was the biggest sacrifice of love I could imagine. Keeping her alive any longer would have been unforgivably selfish. They told me it would be less than a minute after they gave her the injections. It was the fastest minute ever but she went peacefully – in my arms.

All I ever wanted was for her to die in my arms, for me to be with her, and you gave that to me. The timing could not have been more perfect if there ever had to be a time, which, of course there had to be a time.

But this pain is worse than Brad because unlike Brad, she was my person. She was my world. It truly was the two of us against the world. She got me through everything. She was my one and only constant. The love of my life. She was my heart and now my heart is shattered.

I kept thinking – keep thinking about what I tell families – their loved one’s pain is just ending but there’s is just beginning.

How does anyone do this?

Part of me hopes that I will die of a broken heart like so many other soulmate couples have done. I can’t bear being here without her. I don’t want to bring her back here but I want to be with her, wherever she is. So, my prayer is to take me home to Bailey.

Bailey was my everything, my reason to get up in the morning and my reason to go home. She was my voice, my listener, my confidant, my best friend, my everything. My everything is now gone.

I will go on, step by step, until you take me home – whether you ask me to stay for another 50 years or let me go home today. But just know, if you don’t need me for some grand reason down here, let the word I have already written be enough of a legacy for whatever purpose you intend for me and take me soon, back home to be with my baby girl, my Baby Bear, Bailey Bear, my heart, my angel, the love of my life, my best friend. Dying of a broken heart would make perfect sense to those who get my love for her. Honestly, I don’t care if it makes sense or not. I just want my Bailey girl back, just not here on this earth. Even if it were possible, I could never ask that of her. But it is possible to take me home to Bailey. But that decision is yours alone. You know what I want. The rest is up to you.

Now, I am expected to work and I have no idea how I am supposed to get through this day. How am I supposed to see patients and offer them hope when I have none to give? It’s up to you. All up to you. So, here’s my pitiful self on this pitiful day. Make of it what you will.

I love you, Bailey. I miss you like crazy. I have no idea how in the world I am supposed to navigate life without you, but I’ll try. For you, I would do anything. For you, I will try.

---

Yesterday, a patient asked me how I got through all I have been through. I said simply – slowly. Yep! Living with mental illness – healing from a broken heart – is a grueling and slow process.

My relationship with Jesus Christ no doubt makes it bearable because HE sees me through.