I tried to bargain with a god and was unsuccessful.
I always loved writing, but when I was in 8th grade and my mom got cancer, I journaled like my life depended on it. Mainly because I thought HER life depended on it.
I grew up in the church. I started leading worship in my youth group at 13 and was seen as a "leader" pretty early on in life. I was proud of how I was viewed and felt like I truly had it all together. I really wasn’t insecure and didn’t question what I had grown up hearing about who God was and how He worked.
Unfortunately, somewhere along the way I picked up the wrong belief that if I kept talking to God and tried to do what I thought he wanted, nothing bad would happen to me or my family. I was trying to appease Him. I had confused appeasing with loving. My appeasing turned into bargaining when things got worse.
As I read my journals from that season of life, I cringe a little. I feel sad. I grew up believing in a god who was a conditional force who, if provoked, would strike me down if he felt like it. I might have acknowledged it with words, but my true belief was not in a God that loves me because He loves me.
There are countless entries proclaiming healing over my mom. Telling god I will be a better follower if he makes her better. Telling him I will never ask for anything else. Bargaining.
It breaks my heart, because that's not the relational God I know that He is. And partially because I still try to act transactional with God even as an adult. But as a teenager, I never actually thought my mom would die. Surely god wouldn't let that happen.
One month into marriage I experienced debilitating anxiety. Yet for the first time since my mom died, I felt safe. I felt happy. Life was so wonderful, but I was terrified of something happening that would compromise that.
I was so afraid of having a panic attack that I would avoid any situations that could potentially trigger one. It started with the fear of developing certain food allergies and escalated to not wanting to go to the grocery store, hang out with friends, go for a run, or basically anything that required me to leave our apartment. If my husband was late getting home from work or didn’t answer his phone, I concluded that he got in a car wreck and died.
Every second of the day I was waiting for something awful to happen. I was convinced my world could fall apart at any moment, and I had to be prepared.
Looking back, I can see that my anxiety was centered around trying to keep my life exactly how it was.
If you haven't learned the hard way yet, trying to hold life together and control every single detail of what happens is exhausting. And surprise! It doesn’t work. The harder I tried to control, the more exhausted I became from spinning my wheels trying to be superwoman. It was wrecking me.
I remember telling God all I wanted was to be married 50+ years, and for my husband and I to simply die of old age. I begged Him to keep away any cancer, accidents, divorce, etc.
I said I wouldn’t ask for anything else...
10 years after losing my mom, and there I was bargaining with a god again. Trying to make deals with my perception of a god who was ready to strike. All I wanted was a sense of control, and I couldn’t get it.
While I've learned some healthy habits around control since first getting married, I still struggle with anxiety when I feel like I'm losing control of situations. Anyone else?