Failing To Acknowledge Its Name.

The bag in the back of the van held potentially needed items, the just-in-case necessities. Towels, first aid kit, sunscreen, bug spray, extra sunglasses, baseball caps, you get the idea. Nothing specific planned for these items, but one never knows. We might stop at a park, and someone might get muddy; we might find ourselves baking in the sun and need sunscreen. To handle spontaneous moments and be flexible, there must be backup plans. This approach is not a bad one unless consumed by the need to control.

As defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, anxiety is “apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness usually over an impending or anticipated ill.” We often assume that anxiety shows itself as uneasy or nervous. But, maybe we have not even recognized our anxiety because early on, we learned we could avoid the feeling of anxiety if we maintained control.

Anxiety and I have been friends for years. Yet, I failed to acknowledge its name. Instead, deciding to make plans to avoid the situations that introduced feelings of anxiety. It has taken me years to realize that unacknowledged anxiety has sat at the root of my tightly held fist.

Often I labeled my need for control as efficiency, organization, and myself a planner. Only years later, understanding the reality was I feared a life where I was not in control. I made plans to maintain control, and I made backup plans to retain control in unexpected situations.

As I held onto control, I failed to understand that I kept myself closed off to all that God had designed for me. I chose to live safe instead of daring to imagine all that could be, the better, the best life.

@joy.marker

What irony is it that I now find myself diagnosed with a disease that I can not control? Multiple sclerosis, an illness that will do as it pleases, is unpredictable. There is no pattern or reason for how it progresses; therefore, I can not make plans to manage or control the outcome. No medication cures it; no one diet manages it; no person responds to this chronic illness in the same way.

The journey I now travel has forced me to face a reality I have long denied. I can not plan enough, organize enough, manage life sufficiently to ensure that everything will remain comfortable, safe, predictable, and secure.

Thankfully the learning of this lesson did not begin with a diagnosis of a chronic illness. As I began to process this part of my story, I recognized that God had for years been gently helping me to loosen my grip. To understand that my attempt to maintain control was holding me back, weighing me down.

While anxiety still travels with me and often makes itself known, acknowledging it has allowed me to loosen my grip, holding my hands more open to what is. While it is difficult to say I am thankful for my unexpected journey with chronic illness, I can with uncertainty say the lessons it is helping me learn have been invaluable.

If you have not already done so, you can read more of my reflections over on my friend Sarah E Westfall’s Not My Story Essay Series. There I share about being prepared for this unexpected journey and learning to loosen my tightly held fist of control in the essay I Have Prepared You For This.

If you find yourself needing a reminder that no matter what you face, as hard and as heartbreaking as it may be, God has given you strength enough to choose how you live out your story. Check out this post I wrote last year, Am I Living A Life That Would Hurt Like Hell To Leave