I've recognized it as a lie--yet it's one I sometimes still believe--probably more often than I care to admit. The lie (or series thereof) goes something like this: You can't be around people today. It would be very unhealthy for you. You are too vulnerable. You need to protect yourself and stay away. The problem is...though this undoubtedly feels true at the time one hears it, it doesn't represent truth. God's Word declares in Philippians 4:13, " I can do all things through Christ[a] who strengthens me." Proverbs 18:1 tells us, "One who has isolated himself seeks his own desires; he rejects all sound judgment." The most important thing that often can't happen if you give in to the lie is hope and encouragement. Agreement with any kind of a lie kills hope.
For example, this belief that anxiety should be obeyed instead of exhortations such as "enter His gates with thanksgiving" or "do not forsake the assembling of yourselves together," causes an ultimate lack of hope when one decides not to go to church.
This morning, I felt that "anxious bug" trying to bite me. I had woken up late, and my husband was already at church. I entertained the thought of not putting forth the effort, and as soon as I did...I could feel a hopeless cloud beginning to descend. I quickly forced myself up, got ready, and went to church--where great truth and revelation awaited me, as well as the love of other believers and the opportunity to worship God together with them. My own mind had tried to go into a negative default it's had for years. But I got the victory--I allowed a mind-renewing process to begin.
Sometimes the urge to "not engage" with people is so strong that I've found myself walking just a little faster when someone else is approaching the same door or area of a store or church sanctuary, etc. that I am. My anxious adrenaline bids me to "just speed up; don't make eye contact; avoid."
There is another lie, I believe, attached to this behavior: If you engage or acknowledge, people will expect something of you--and you will disappoint them. Akin to this is a true yet faulty position, that others may see something in you that you don't want them to see. But the core fear at the base of that is the fear of being vulnerable. You become afraid (or ashamed) to admit to the right people what you are experiencing--and that, at least in part, is due to another lie, which says: Others can't really help.
But the truth is...others will attempt to "speak life," and in your anxiety, you've already chosen death. Isolation leads to relational death, however small in degree. Remember, death is the permanent ending of vital processes. Death, in terms of our choices, doesn't happen all at once--it's a process. But it leads to unwise thoughts and illogical actions. "Bouncing back" can be really difficult. The ability to do so becomes dependent on one's self-perceived level of emotional stability. This leads to decisions based on feelings. If left unchecked, it certainly can lead to physical problems as well. But it's important to address the source. Our beliefs--yes, our own minds.
Is anxiety real? Of course. But should it rule us? It doesn't preach freedom to our souls. Its core message is captivity--in the prison of one's own mind.
Every day I make choices regarding how I conduct myself in the midst of others. Most often, I choose to believe that anxiety is worth fighting against. But do I fight when it's most important to fight--when the battle is the hardest? Do I declare the truth over my mind, taking "captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ" (II Cor. 10:5)? These are the questions presenting themselves clearly to me today.
I am choosing to live a life of hope. Jesus said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10). Anxiety has been a persistent thief in my life, and today I am putting it on alert. I want the fullness of peace, of joy, of faith, of wisdom, of relationship--of everything God has provided for me in Christ Jesus. And I hope you do too.
