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It is no secret what God can do.  

Jan 25, 2012 - 0 comments


Maybe it's not trusting God, but I live in terror that my income will stop just as I'm desperately afraid of homelessness.  I've prayed about this innumerable times (to put it mildly).  

I'm so tired.  And this depression is deep.  Without the overwhelming anxiety I'm more keenly aware of the highs and lows.  I've been so horribly traumatized by stress recently, for a while I was too stunned to cry.  Now I hear a reference on the radio to a family's love and I cry.  I guess it's because I feel so alone where family is concerned.  Just thinking the words "encouragement and strength" make me think of the encouragement and strength I don't have and I cry.  I know it will slowly improve (unless, God forbid, there's a trigger that kicks me into high), but it's hard on the heart to cry like this.  

Worst is when I'm not sure why I'm crying and, as I'm  imprudently wondering over it, the nature of a given crying spell reminds me of another time I cried this way... and suddenly I'm crying because Ray died or because friends broke my heart.   The thing to do when those free-floating tears come is recognize them for what they are and to take them and the whole depression mess to God.  Easier said than done; the old habit is entrenched, the new habit not established, and I have no one to remind me but God Himself.  

My body has been through so much.  Between the decades of meds and my lifelong anxiety I'm not confident in the condition of my heart.  Heart attacks are the rule on my father's side.  I don't dare touch any more head meds, enticing though the thought of muffling my feelings under a rush of Seraquel sometimes is.  Without the medications on my record there's no documentation of the illness.  At the moment even the weekly $15 to see a therapist is beyond my resources.  There must be some kind of free psychotherapy but I haven't been able to find it.  My new church paid for a half dozen counselor visits after I got out of the hospital, but I need so much more to get functioning again.  

I just heard a request for prayer "for an ex-sister-in-law, she will have surgery to remove a tumor from her heart."  There's a lesson for me there.  I'm worried about stress, heredity, and reports that the calcium supplements I've taken may cause calcification of the heart muscle... this lady's worry is rather more immediate in its intensity and threat.  

I don't know if I've been sick because I've been depressed or if I'm depressed because I've been sick.  It's usually like this.  

This time around I'm actually thankful for the tears.  They often come while I'm in prayer (which is often, these days), which would be distressing except that I find myself being reminded to breathe.  I have a tendency to hold my breath when I wail.  Rarely do I remember to do the things I've been taught about how to reduce the stress of these attacks, so it's a blessing to be reminded.  

And the tears, in a way I can't explain, are a relief to some pent up misery I don't know how to express and release deliberately.  Maybe it's just that I have no one to talk to.  I don't know.  

Thank God that the crying jags don't last long this time, and that here in my room no one knows.  Crying jags at work used to be such a problem.  It always spelled the beginning of the end of a job.  If I could choose between the highs and the lows I'd choose the lows because, while the lows may be dismal, it's in the highs that the big mistakes are made.  

I'm so tired.  

I pray.  Not specified prayer times or specified prayers.   But I listen to the radio and go online to find more... Chuck Swindoll, Chip Ingram, Adrian Rogers, Ravi Zacherias, David Jeremiah, Vernon McGee, John MacArthur, John MacDonald.  I google my questions and read from sites like Acts17-11.  I go to and to pursue verses and topics.  I have devotional books and materials specifically about anxiety and hard times.  And always I lift up the thoughts, questions, and concerns on my heart.  

I don't yet have the presence of mind to start on BBN's online Bible school, or the Living On The Edge r12 online Christian discipleship program.  But I want to.  

I know God hears me.  I know He will not give a stone when I ask for a loaf of bread.  But the promises I find have to do with food and clothing, and it's shelter I'm worried about.  I can't afford to rent anything better than this room.  I'm looking at having to find homes for my dogs because I'm not sure it's in their best interests to remain with me.  

Well, I just had a good dose of stress and came away from it trembling, with my heart in my throat, and ready to throw up.  The stomach is no doubt influenced by this stomach bug I'm still fighting.  But the trembling and constricted throat make no particular sense.  The problem did not come as a surprise (someone pitched a fit over an issue that's been brewing).  I'm familiar enough with that person's personality to anticipate: that it would happen, how I'd have to handle it, how they'd react initially, and how things would work out... I was correct on all counts (though I wasn't prepared for the shouting and foul mouth).  So why all the physical symptoms?? (I still feel awful and the trembling hasn't fully stopped.)  There has to be a physiologic as opposed to psychologic explanation... at least in part.  I read a brief on Hashimoto's today... God forbid!  

I am so sick of being sick!  I'm sick to death of the maneuvering to accommodate this condition or that condition.  I'm sick of medicines and vitamins,  herbal and homeopathic preparations, physical and psychological therapies, bearing myself up when I eat "the wrong foods", preparing and choking down the yucky but healthy green smoothies, and every other kind of method to cope with "what's wrong"!  I wish I lived a long time ago when life wasn't so fast paced, food was natural and organic and untainted, people had values and morals and you could trust their word, leave a door unlocked, and expect the golden rule to prevail.  

But it's not our age.  Really it's not.  A long time ago, instead of poisoned, nutrient-depleted food, they had to worry about traumatic injury and infection.  I suspect that worries about immoral people were more pronounced than we're aware today.  And certainly there wasn't much structure in terms of safety in the case of isolated farms and hamlets.  

No, the situation then was essentially the same as it is today... there was trouble, trials and tribulation.  There will be today, whatever form it takes.  

And then, as now, and as will be, God  has His eye on the sparrow.  My emotions, my physical health, my finances, my family... God sees it all, understands it all, and had power over every problem and every outcome.  My job is to take each problem to Him, and trust.  

It is no secret what God can do.  

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