For the past six years or so, I've struggled with an anxiety disorder; the result, I believe, of trying to cope with a horrible situation I could do nothing about.  That specific situation is no longer present in my life in the same form, but my body has learned to deal with difficulties by going straight to crisis mode, and so my anxiety flares up off and on.  It's a frustrating thing to not be able to control your own body.

Anxiety is an especially difficult problem for a Christian to have, because it is so often associated with sinful worry and lack of faith: Worry is a topic covered extensively in the Sermon on the Mount, Paul tells the Philippians not to be anxious about anything, and Peter tells his readers to cast their anxieties on God.  People often assume that I could stop "worrying" if I really wanted to.  I greatly desire to follow God's commands on the subject of anxiety and worry; unfortunately, anxiety disorders are not the same as "worry."  If they were, I think I would have been free from this problem a long time ago.  Instead, it shows up in the most unwelcome places and makes seemingly easy tasks difficult at times.

It's hard to admit that I don't always have it all together.  It's hard not to cringe when I tell someone about my anxiety disorder, in expectation that they will think less of me or consider me not fit to have a relationship with.  It's hard, knowing my reactions to things are sometimes irrational and yet not being able to control them.  Basically, this part of my life is just plain hard.

I shared with someone about my anxiety disorder last night.  The person was kind and seemed to be understanding, and yet I woke up this morning thinking that there was a strong possibility that my struggles with anxiety would send him packing.  In light of all this, the words to today's Jesus Calling devotional were especially powerful for me: "Do not fear your weakness, for it is the stage on which My power and glory perform most brilliantly." Dare I say with Paul, "Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:9-10)?

I don't need to be ashamed that I struggle with anxiety.  In my weakness, Christ's strength shines.  I know I can do nothing apart from Him.  Why do I even try, when His strength in me can do everything so much better?  This acceptance of God's power in me doesn't erase the hurt that comes when people don't understand, but it gives purpose to my suffering and strength to carry on.