Weak and willing.
"...clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, for God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.
Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are in the world. After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To Him be dominion forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 5: 5b-11
Alongside my deep desire to help, uplift, and comfort those around me walks my ugly and constant companion, pride. It doesn't like to turn me loose. My pride says I can manage everything just fine with very little, if any, assistance. That I am perfectly logical and able to separate emotion from day to day decision making. Pride causes me to be confused by other people's emotional reactions; By their anxiety over seemingly "usual" things. It prevents me from being the compassionate, loving person I want to be.
For years, I have prayed for greater understanding.
It's well documented that living cross-culturally brings every emotion to the surface, making what would have previously cause mild/moderate distress, move to the moderate/major scale. I definitely noticed that when I moved overseas 15 months ago, but was prepared (as well as could be expected) for it and managed it fairly well.
However, since mom died, my emotions are like an open wound just waiting for someone else to come along and drop a little salt in. Some days I am able to pull myself together and, perhaps, from the outside I appear to be doing just fine. However, on the inside, I have not been even near "just fine" for more than maybe 30 minutes or so at a time. I feel anxiety for seemingly no reason at all. Sometimes I can analyze long enough to determine what triggered it, but more often I just breath and pray and wait for it to pass. So far it has not been debilitating...but it is frequently very intense. Not quite, but almost to the point of a low-key panic. There is absolutely NO logic in this. None.
While I still want to understand my anxious friends, I deeply want to STOP understanding to this level!
I am praising God for answering my prayers. I don't have to enjoy the way He teaches me, to appreciate the lesson. I am weak, but I am willing. Still, I wait...not so patiently...for this season to pass. For the days to seem at least a little brighter. For the social anxiety to leave me. For the words others speak to me to be just that-words-rather than salt in my open wounds. Waiting for the day when I can function as my best, most healthy self, able to encourage, uplift, and help others.
Waiting to open my eyes one morning and actually be glad that the Lord gave me another day.
