Much of what I write about revolves around my struggles with anxiety and depression, as well as the many ways God has healed me over the last five years or so. It would be awesome if I never had to write about these struggles again because it would mean I don’t have them anymore, but I’m not there yet. In the meantime, I hope that continuing to share my experiences of resolutely working through these struggles with the Lord will give hope to others.
I have frequently wrestled with why God allows me to continue to labor in this way–why I seem to have so many setbacks and challenges. I don’t have the answer to that question, at least not the complete answer, but what I do know is that “in everything God works for good with those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). I also know that it’s easy to turn to God for answers and comfort when something terrible is happening, but what about when life is going well? I believe God uses the difficulties of my life to invite me to draw closer to Him to receive deeper healing.
When life is painful, it is tempting to think that God is holding out on us. But I believe He provides me with opportunities to surrender and trust Him more deeply so I can know and love Him better. He wants me to be utterly dependent on Him for everything. When I have clung to Jesus in times of pain and suffering, these are the times I have learned the most about Him and myself. And if my goal is to be with Him forever, I need to know Him intimately and remember that He is ultimately in charge of every area of my life. Admittedly, knowing these truths doesn’t always make it easy to live them.
So, after a fun Fall season, when I found myself being sucked back into an anxiety cycle just before Christmas, I felt blindsided, disappointed, and angry. I did all the things I knew how to combat it–prayer, adoration, renunciation of spirits, nervous system regulation work, exercise, etc. Still, it persisted into the winter without much relief. One bitterly cold day, I dragged myself out of the house and to the adoration chapel to sit before Jesus, hoping I would regain some sense of peace in my mind, heart, and body.
When I arrived, a dear friend who knew what I was going through was already there. I sat down behind her. She asked if I was feeling any better, and I said no. She turned back to prayer. Several minutes later, she picked up her notebook and began writing furiously. Then she turned, thrust the notebook at me, and said, “He told me to tell you this.” Written there were the perfect words of encouragement and hope from the Lord for me.
After she left, I felt an immense sense of gratitude, along with a prompting to stand with outstretched hands to praise Jesus for everything He has done for me, including being there in that chapel and dropping a friend there at that moment to encourage me. Because there was another man there praying as well, I hesitated. A familiar, unwelcome voice whispered, “You don’t want to do that. That’s embarrassing.” But I have learned that when the Holy Spirit inspires me to do something, and I hear the voice of the enemy trying to prevent me from it, I better buckle up and get moving because something important is coming.
I stood up and began praying under my breath so I wouldn’t disturb the other adorer. Tears streamed down my face, and in my heart I heard the words, “Let it go, let it all go,” repeatedly. Then I got a strange image in my mind’s eye. I was in a room with ugly, dirty, yellow wallpaper. Someone was using a small scraper and bare hands to strip the paper, but it was clinging stubbornly to the wall. It was tedious and unfruitful work, with only small bits coming off at a time.
It quickly dawned on me that, in some ways, I am like that wallpaper; clinging to what I know, stuck in the places I don’t know how to get out of, and fighting to have my own way. I say I want to surrender to God, but I hold on tightly to my worries, fears, and ideas of how things should go. God wants me to release them to Him, but they have been stuck to me for so long that it’s hard to let go. I give him small pieces of me instead of everything.
In other ways, I’m the person working on the wall; using the wrong tools and making the job harder than it needs to be. I’m trying to strip that paper off with meager resources by my own power and strength instead of using water, stripper solution, and a wallpaper scorer, allowing me to easily remove the paper in large patches. I’m trying to make that paper “let go” while thinking somehow, if I just work hard enough, I can make everything turn out how I want it to.
The reality is that I must let it all go to gain what I want, which is peace in any situation that arises. Whether it be small daily nuisances or serious life-altering circumstances, we will all inevitably face trials from which we want to run screaming. The question is, do we want to be the stubborn wallpaper, clinging to our anxieties and control, or the worker toiling in vain on his own strength? Or do we want to ask God for His tools–the virtues of trust and surrender–so we can let it all go and let Him be our peace?
I want to let it all go, but I also keep trying to take it back. Even though it’s a struggle, learning to let go is a process that I am committed to working on.
One of my go to prayers for when I am holding onto but also trying to let go of my fears and worries is the “Surrender Novena,” which I have on repeat in the Hallow app on my phone. In day one of this novena, Jesus tells Servant of God Don Dolindo Ruotolo, spiritual director of St. Padre Pio, “I say to you in truth that every act of true, blind, complete, surrender to me produces the effect that you desire and resolves all difficult situations” (Surrender Novena, Day 1).
In addition to praying this novena, I have been reading or listening to anything that can help me cultivate this radical surrender in my life. Recently, I read two outstanding books which have inspired and deeply challenged me. He Leadeth Me: An Extraordinary Testament of Faith, by Servant of God Walter Cizsek, SJ is the spiritual memoir of a Polish American priest who became a Soviet prisoner after being convicted of being a “Vatican spy.” A Song for Nagasaki: The Story of Takashi Nagai, Scientist, Convert, and Survivor of the Atomic Bomb is the incredible story of the conversion, faith, suffering, and legacy of Dr. Takashi Nagai, a doctor of radiology in the suburb of Nagasaki which was ground zero for the atomic bomb.
Both Cizsek and Nagai completely abandon themselves to Divine Providence and live with joy, while simultaneously facing unspeakable pain and trauma. Fr. Cizsek writes: “And the greatest grace God can give such a man is to send him a trial he cannot bear with his own powers—and then sustain him with his grace so he may endure to the end and be saved.” This is the kind of surrender that I desire to learn and practice every day. With God’s grace, I will keep moving forward toward that goal.
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