Deep breath, we’re taking an unusual detour into serious-land tonight.
I’ve wanted to write about this topic because it’s been such a struggle recently, but felt very vulnerable and didn’t know how to break the ice. I’ve been asking God for help, but I hadn’t felt like he was leading me toward a solution. I admit, I was starting to feel unraveled and worse, I was starting to feel despair.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve dealt with anxiety at night. When the world quiets down and all the distractions of the day cease, a different kind of noise invades my space. Nagging worry starves me of sleep and robs me of peace. Not every night, it tends to come in waves. It’s always been something I’ve just accepted and got on “fine” despite it. But recently it’s become obvious that this problem is robbing me of more than just my beauty rest.
Some of my first memories are of pacing the entryway of my grandmother’s house, worried that a car accident or fire or some other horrific thing would keep my parents from ever coming back to me. That was its form then. As the years went by the worry changed. Now I lie awake at night, my heart racing, worried about my children. I worry about every cough, scratch, and hair on their heads. I worry that someone will come in the window at night and take them. I worry about the days in the distant future when they will go to school, cross the street without me, and (terrifying) drive. I tell myself I’m being irrational. I try to quiet the noise, but it’s been harder than ever before. I feel desperate for quiet. Desperate for peace. I couldn’t hear God through all that noise.
God always finds a way to reach me. Today it was through a wonderful, Catholic writer. Jennifer Fulwiler wrote about her struggles with similar problems in this post on anxiety and spiritual battles. Her courage in writing about a personal struggle and her perspective on the spiritual elements are more than just comforting and encouraging, they are helping me understand what’s really going on, what God has been making more and more obvious over the past several weeks. This is more than just me, suffering from an overactive imagination or anxiety. My nighttime anxiety is an attack.
All day long we’re attacked with images, words, and actions that threaten our physical and spiritual well-being. As we go about our day, conscious of these “bad things”, we work to protect ourselves from them. We avoid those things that will lead us to sin. At night the world quiets. These obvious, more tangible battles between good and evil seem to go away, but the battle doesn’t stop. Maybe I was letting my guard down right when I needed it most.
I believe that the devil will use our weaknesses and insecurities against us. So, I’m not the type of person to be led into adultery or idolatry or blasphemy or envy. That’s not going to stop him. If he can find a way to take our peace and separate us from God, then he can lead us to despair. He can make us believe that God can’t save us. He can ruin our chance of salvation. Now I know what’s behind my struggle. The devil has found my weakness and he’s trying to use it to destroy me.
I know that sounds very dramatic, but it’s real. Acknowledging it as such gives me power to overcome it. One of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite saints, Padre Pio, is “Pray, hope, and don’t worry.” Is it really that simple? This man was not just spiritually attacked, he was PHYSICALLY attacked by the devil. I can’t imagine anything more terrifying, yet he did not despair. With him as my example, and with Christ by my side I have renewed hope that I can have peace. As Jen suggests, maybe I can even use that vulnerable time of night to strengthen my faith. I certainly have a long way to go, but with help and through prayer, I’m going to try to get there.
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