Are You Battling Well?
I battle anxiety and depression.
Years ago a friend told me that instead of saying, “I have anxiety” or “I suffer from anxiety,” he prefers to say he battles it. I have adopted his language, and so I say that, for me, anxiety and depression are a battle.
It’s a much tougher battle than most people who know me would ever guess, and I like the battle imagery because it helps me remember that I’m an active participant in this fight. Instead of anxiety and depression afflicting me, and me remaining passive or powerless against them, I battle them. The language may seem meaningless to others, or simply not helpful, and that’s fine. For me, though, it’s helpful for my brain to have this understanding.
In my battle, I’ve used many weapons—medication, meditation, prayer, counseling, natural supplements, journaling, and more. All have helped at times. All have been woefully inadequate at times.
I once had a conversation with some other pastors at the church where I was serving. One noted that he believed it best to allow some time to pass before sharing a deeply personal story as an illustration, because you likely don’t yet have a resolution or even enough space to tell the story in a way that is instructive and healing for others. For instance, you may not share a story about the hard time you’re going through with your spouse if you (and they) aren’t in a healthy enough mental and emotional place to share it because it’s too fresh, too now.
I think as a guideline though certainly not a rule, there’s some wisdom there. However, I’ve realized over the last year that I must share my stories about my battles with anxiety and depression even while I’m in the thick of them. I must share because, in a way, it’s healing for me. I must share because, particularly in the Christian world, too few of us are allowed to or feel safe enough to share. I must share because I want the young people I know to feel safe to follow my example if they wish.
I know so many of us share this battle. For you, the worst of your anxiety may center around your children. For her, the worst may be around her future. For me, it’s often around my health and well-being. Our battles look different as they play out in our minds and through our days.
Your depression may manifest most strongly with exhaustion and a lack of desire to do much of anything. I know that feeling. It may look like anger and rage. I know that feeling too. Maybe your depression comes with a desire or even an act to hurt yourself to try to relieve some pain. I know that feeling as well.
I wish we could sit, you and I, across a table or on a comfy couch. I wish we could wear our most comfortable leggings and curl up with coffee and conversation. Your story is different from mine, and mine is still messily unfolding. But I bet we would relate to each other.
And we wouldn’t try to offer advice to each other, because we realize everyone is unique. It’s not our job to fix each other. But we might swap stories. You might tell me how much a particular type of therapy has helped you. I might tell you about my experience with a supplement that has sometimes helped me.
Increasingly, what I’m telling myself, and what I would share with you, is the importance of grace. If you grew up going to church or you currently attend one, grace is a word you probably know. I know that for me, though, it’s a word and a reality that I often take for granted. I was taught that grace is God’s unmerited favor. My pastor explained that definition to me when I was in my early twenties, and I latched onto it. God’s grace is his favor for me and for my life, even if I don’t deserve it.
In the midst of my battles, in the fog and fear of the anxiety and in the sad, angry moments of depression, I can forget that as real as my anxiety and depression are, I still have God’s favor, his grace, to cling to. It’s just as real, and, in fact, more real because it’s never-changing.
In the Bible, Paul wrote about an encounter he had with God. He said God assured him of this: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).
On the hard days, that’s what I’m telling myself. God’s grace, his favor, his goodness will sustain me. Hear me shout from the rooftops that that doesn’t mean I don’t also need medication or counseling or any combination of other tools in my arsenal. But as I fight the battle with my tools, God brings to bear a far stronger weapon than I could ever wield—his grace for me.
I saw one of my favorite authors, Shauna Niequist, post this on Twitter recently: “Grace is the balm for our anxious minds, a loving hand on the forehead calming the frantic attempts to figure out, figure out, figure out.” You can read the whole thread and the rest of her quote here.
Grace is my newest tool. But of course, it’s the one I’ve had all along. I had forgotten how powerful grace is. Maybe you have too. Maybe you’ve never even thought about it. I don’t know what combination of tools and weapons will help you; I don’t even know the right combination for myself these days. I know for sure, though, that we will be much better equipped to fight if we take the fullness of God’s grace for us into the battlefields of our hearts and minds and lives.
was a pastor in Maryland for 8 years before stepping full-time into work as a life and leadership coach, author, and speaker. She is married with three kids, a gorgeous dog, and a Betta named Pepperoni. She loves helping people find their best lives and work toward living them. Connect with Heather at HeatherMHenderson.com.
Photograph © Verne Ho, used with permission
