I told some drunks Friday night that in some ways I haven't changed that much. I don't like pain, fear and anxiety. Who does? I admitted that I still try desperately to change the way I feel when under the weight of such emotions. Only now I have a different way of doing that besides drinking and drugging and other self-destructive behavior. But oh what hell it can be when those things don't seem to work.
Recovery programs tell us that fear is an evil, corrosive thread and that when we are disturbed it is because something in us needs to be changed by or turned over to God. The Bible tells us that the perfect love of God casts out fear, that God has not given us a spirit of fear but rather power, love and a sound mind, and that we are to be anxious for nothing but with prayer and thanksgiving take our needs and requests to God. So it can be that dealing with fear adds to it the dealing of guilt, shame and condemnation. The lie comes and tells us that we must not be working a good spiritual program of recovery if we are unable to expel fear. We must not be walking with God as we should be or must not be a very good Christian if we can not walk through the Valley of the Shadow without fear. And our natural instinct screams at us to escape, to change the way we feel.
As I attempt to write this, I have been up for over two hours, and my stomach is only now beginning to stop churning. My hands are finally stable enough for me to type, and I no longer feel on the verge of tears. Yet, my anxiety level is still high, and I taste the acid aftermath of adrenaline in my mouth. More nightmares. More prison dreams, and I must admit I just want it all to stop. I've bean out now for longer than the 7.5 years I served inside, and it feels ridiculous. I tell myself to get over it already, not that that works.
My pipe filled with a custom mixed tobacco blend helps quiet me some, and the relaxing meditative music of my Liquid Mind radio soothes my soul. Most of all, the time I spent in prayer this morning has brought some peace and a reminder that God does indeed love me and that the Holy Spirit is a Comforter. Still, I can't help but wonder if this will ever completely go away this side of eternity and if this is my own personal thorn in the side.
If it is, then it is not what I want. Then again, who wants a thorn in their side? But I remember the rest of what Paul shared about the thorn. God didn't just refuse to remove it. He said that His grace is sufficient. If God allows the PTSD symptoms to continue and withholds healing, then it means that for some reason the healing is going to be slow so that I can learn more how to turn to Him in my need and in my fear or that He will provide the power to endure without turning away, without trying to change the way I feel in a destructive manner, and in a way that will bring Him glory and help others.
Jesus knows what it means to suffer. He has felt my pain and more. For the joy of what His suffering would bring about, He endured it. If not being able to easily and quickly eliminate fear and being able to go through it without forgetting the truth of God's goodness, faithfulness and love for and towards me can help someone else who faces fear they can not fight or flee from, can help someone who understands that PTSD really stands for Painful Tormenting Scary Disturbance, then that is something I can give thanks for.
Maybe someday I can share of the absolute freedom from fear. Maybe one day I will only have vague recollections of ever having nightmares and prison dreams. But today that is not the case. Still, over the years I have learned some things as I have experienced the aftermath of the consequences of my life apart from God. I have learned from experience that there is a rest to be found in Jesus that has nothing to do with sleep. I have found it true that God can and will work all things, even my fear and suffering, for good for me. I have learned that He is faithful to bring me through the hard and dark times, even when He doesn't take them away. For nearly seven years I have not had to drink or drug to escape the way I feel and the fear that comes or the terrors of the night. When I sleep peacefully and have somehow made my bed in heaven, He is there with me. And also when I make my bed in hell and the torment comes, He is there with me as well. I am not alone. He has not forsaken, and He does not contemn me for having fear. He understands.
Spiritual encounters so often start with God or His messenger saying fear not. It's not a command. It's an assurance, a comforting, a blessing. In His presence is fullness of joy, and sometimes that joy is mixed with fear as we crawl into our Daddy's arms and whisper softly, I am afraid. Shhh, He responds. It's OK. I am here. I've got you. I love you. Take your time and rest here with me until it passes. I love you. You are not alone. And after a while, the tightness in our chest eases, the tears are wiped away, and we are able to look up and say thank you Daddy. I love you too.
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