The post God is with me in my panic attack appeared first on Colleen E. Chao.
]]>Until I landed in the ER at 3:00 a.m. one morning with what I thought was a heart attack.
I hadn’t slept in three days and my heart was racing, burning, palpitating. Even when I lay motionless in bed, I felt like I was running a marathon. I gasped for breath. I was exhausted.
Docs ran multiple tests and X-rays, but in the absence of anything conclusive they sent me on my way: “This can happen to people with long-and-thin frames like yours.” I left the ER that day with no idea how to slow my body long enough to get a few hours of sleep. Soon I had to quit my job and fly home to California.
That was a dark season of my life, to be sure. And it was the beginning of a new reality for me. Eventually my “heart-attack–insomnia” bouts were diagnosed as panic attacks, and for the past sixteen years they have dotted the landscape of my life.
Panic attacks have been a source of both grief and grace. Grief, because they are terrifying and painful and disorienting and exhausting. Grace, because through them God has humbled my proud heart and taught me to trust less in myself and more in Him. When Asaph says, “My flesh and my heart may fail me, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever,” I get it.
Boy, do I get it.
I’ve learned a lot along this broken way. I’ve been able to identify the biggest triggers for my panic attacks. I’ve come to understand the great need I have for healthy life habits. I’ve passionately pursued emotional and relational maturity in areas of my life where I’ve long been deficient.
And I’ve learned that we are wholistic creatures—God made us both body and soul. Imagine sharing the gospel with a starving person without first meeting their physical needs. It would be unkind and ineffectual, to say the least. In a similar way, if you’re in the midst of panic and I tell you “Don’t be anxious for anything” before I address your physical symptoms—I ultimately fail to care for you. First let’s deal with the panic, then your heart will be calm enough to hear life-giving truth.
Perhaps the most beautiful thing I’ve learned is that God is happy to be with me, even in the most terrifying moments of anxiety. He is here. He has everything I need for this.
God hasn’t given me a shortcut through panic. He cares more for my long-term growth than for quick-fixes that bring momentary relief but leave me unchanged. Along the way He has graciously equipped me with some very helpful handles—that minimize the frequency and severity of my panic attacks. I want to share some of these with you. I’m not a doctor, so I’ll leave issues of medication, exercise, and diet in the hands of the professionals. But these are simple means of turning to God (physically and emotionally) in order to not just survive anxiety, but to also know and love Him better through it.
God is bringing much beauty out of my ashes, and if some of that beauty can spill over onto you, this 16-year journey would be well worth it.
Typically when I’m in the throes of panic there are layers of stressful people and circumstances in my life. Avoiding those circumstances and people may not be possible (nor even wise), but I can counterbalance them by spending extra time with joyful, life-giving friends. These are dear ones who are tender to my weaknesses and love me in all my mess. They lower their expectations. They light up when they see me.
Time with them reminds me of who I am, who God is, and that there’s life beyond this panic. I notice that my heart rate slows, my shoulders relax, and my obsessive thoughts lose momentum. God has made us for joyful relationship, and the worst thing I can do when I’m navigating extreme anxiety is to isolate myself from those who love me.
One of the greatest helps in dealing with panic has been practicing appreciation in three specific ways. I stole these from two must-read books: Joy Starts Here by Jim Wilder, and Transforming Fellowship by Chris Coursey.
Sometimes a full-body massage can work wonders in the midst of panic. (On a side note, Chinese reflexology offers much more affordable versions of fancy spa massages!) A panic attack can create a corkscrew of physical tension, and massage can immediately release some of that pressure.
There are also fantastic “tapping” and pressure-point techniques that help calm the body. And sometimes I simply need a strong hug or a firm grip on my arm to slow my heart rate. Moderate exercise and sweating help me as well (even a 20-minute walk and a few lunges or light weights), but nothing sustained or intense—as that can put more burden on my already overtaxed body.
I’ve also used a breathing app to help me steady and deepen my erratic and short breaths during an attack.
I’ve found that spending time outdoors—soaking up the sun and enjoying nature in all its beauty—is highly effective (and free!) therapy for both body and soul. I’ve come to love hiking. I’ve become an avid bird-watcher (ahem, the very person I used to chuckle at), and I often linger while looking at a flower, a sunset, a tree. I take deep breaths as I study the intricacies of my Creator’s handiwork.
If God cares this much for a flower of the field or a bird of the air, if there is such design and purpose in a tiny part of His creation—imagine how much more He cares for me, how much greater His purposes are for me.
During periods of intense anxiety and panic, I have the tendency to read Scripture and pray with a fearful and distracted spirit. In order to move out of fearful mode into relational mode with God, I use this journaling technique. It helps me quiet my heart so I can engage with God, sense His nearness, and hear His voice. Once I’m calm and in tune with Him, prayer and the Word can have their effect on me.
And the Word is life itself (Deuteronomy 32:47). If I’m not prayerfully in Scripture, every other helpful handle may bring some form of relief, but ultimately won’t transform me. But when I continue to steep myself in the riches of God’s truth, and I ask Him boldly for the supernatural gifts of peace and joy in the midst of great stress–He “rescues me because He delights in me,” and that changes me.
In describing his struggle with anxiety and depression, J.P. Moreland wrote,
“I once heard a Christian psychologist say that we were made to live in a camel culture: slow-paced, relational and no electric lights to keep people up beyond sundown and deprive them of the eight and one half hours of sleep they need each night. But ours is no camel culture. We live in a rapid-paced, highly stressful society. We are constantly surrounded with noise, cell-phones, television…. As a result, anxiety and depression are epidemic in America.”
Several years ago I woke up to the fact that I was living beyond my means. I was a debtor to sleep. I could no longer keep up with a huge social circle and constant activity. I’d long cheated my body of what it so desperately needed, and I was paying a high price. So here are some lifestyle choices I began to make—and I now prioritize.
It’s one thing to read about how to do this stuff—it’s quite another to have someone model it for you. I am forever grateful for a few friends (both living and passed) who have shown me what it looks like to walk through life’s sorrows and stresses, to be prone to anxiety in its extreme forms and still be able to return to joy and peace in Jesus.
I won’t pretend that these skills and habits have been easy to learn and implement. Most of my journey has been uphill. But as I have given myself, day in and day out, to working at my deficits, God has met me in amazing ways.
As I address these very real issues of chemical imbalances, personality tendencies, and stress factors, I’m motivated by more than just a desire to rid my life of panic attacks (although that would be nice!). Rather I long “to grow up in every way into Christ” so that I can increase my capacity to care for people, so I can suffer well and handle more of life’s challenges without losing my joyful identity.
God never gives up on His children. I’m 41 years old and learning things I should have known 20 years ago. But God’s timing is perfect, and He has used panic attacks as cords-of-kindness, to draw me to Him and make me love Him as I never could have imagined.
I led them with cords of kindness,
with the bands of love,
and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws,
and I bent down to them and fed them.
Hosea 11:4
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]]>I can point to time after time when He broke in on my darkness, when He rescued me from my own stupidity, when He brought His words to a rolling boil to melt my hardened heart.
I’ve brushed up against Glory through His Spirit, His Word, His people.
And His world. He has met me in stars and sunsets and music and fire and water and color and dark and dawn and thunder and lightning and silence.
My God—He has revealed Himself to me at every turn, in every season.
But after all of this—after all the ways He has marked my life with His love—I forget He’s here. It is the worst form of amnesia, to forget the One who created me, rescued me from sin and its damnation, made me infinitely rich in His love.
How can I be daughter of the King Most High, yet prone to live as a beggar’s child born into a generational cycle of poverty and despair?
You were unmindful of the Rock that bore you, and you forgot the God who gave you birth.
As someone else once confessed, I am often an atheist in practice. I’m prone to live as if there’s no God. Forgetfulness turns me faithless.
I question and cower and complain. I wring my hands in worry. I drink the cup of discouragement to its dregs instead of quenching my thirst in His cup that runs over with joy.
But He is not forgetful. He does not forget me.
Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.
God knows I am newborn-needy, and with greater tenderness than even a nursing mother, He tells me again and again in His Word to remember.
Colleen, I know you’re forgetful, so bring to mind all the ways I’ve provided for you.
Protected you.
Rescued you.
Loved you.
Recall the greatness of Who I Am again and again and again till there’s a well-worn path in your brain—a neurological groove of gratitude and awe.
Is it strange that the cure for my amnesia is remembering? Like the cure for a couch potato is turning off the TV and exercising, it sounds simple but it screams against all that comes naturally to me.
Funny thing is, I can remember a lot of things without even trying: the expectations I haven’t lived up to, my never-ending list of to-do’s, that catchy new song. And I’d never dare to forget my morning cup of coffee.
But keep the God of the Universe at the forefront of my mind? Why is this so difficult?
The God who has always been with me—He is with me still, even in my amnesia. He smiles at me in my need and pours Grace over my lack. He gives me the desire and obedience to remember Him, to think on His goodness—because He knows it is my good.
So I hang Scriptures on the walls of my home, and I put verses to music so they get stuck on repeat in my head, and I open my mouth to tell the people around me how good God is to me (and I sidle up to those who talk about His goodness back to me). I carve out time alone with my Savior so He can reshape my thoughts and desires. I journal. I pour out my heart, I reflect, I answer questions like these:
What am I grateful for today?
How have I seen God’s kindness expressed to me through another person?
What does the cross tell me about God’s relentless love for me?
Here, in the sweet quiet of my Father’s presence, reflecting on His past and continual goodness to me, I remember who He is and who I am in Him. My distracted, anxious thoughts (of Self and Circumstances and Others) are dwarfed by my magnified thoughts of Him.
As St. Augustine said, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” Is my heart trying to find a resting place apart from Christ?
We can be busy about a lot of good things, but if they’re keeping us from remembering The Best Thing, our hearts remain restless.
Dear One, is your heart at rest? Or has rest been eluding you as of late (as it has been me)? Tonight let’s ask God to help us remember all that we have in Him.
My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. Psalm 63:5-7
Click here for a list of Scriptural commands to remember.
Other Scriptures referenced: Deuteronomy 32:18; Isaiah 49:15, 54:5; Psalm 23:5, 16:2
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]]>So this past week I’ve been amping up my “peaceful practices.” One of my favorite ways to color myself calm in the midst of stress is to tell stories of God’s goodness in my life. Like this one….
My friends Cara and Melissa have entered into our family’s food-allergy-ridden diet and cared for us in ways that have brought me to tears on more than one occasion. They’ve actually cried with me when I’ve shared how food allergies can isolate my son Jeremy in social settings. They’ve thought in advance of an event where Jeremy might feel left out and have prepared food for him so I didn’t have to. They’ve stocked the kids’ class at church with the one “candy” Jeremy can eat so he has a treat like the rest of the kids. Not only that, but when I’ve thanked them through tears for all their kindnesses, they’ve said, “You guys are family, and Jeremy is so special to us.” I cannot begin to describe what a balm to my heart these precious friends are.
This practice is so simple, yet so sweet. By describing to someone God’s goodness to me, my own heart is cheered, quieted, and strengthened. I literally feel my whole body relax. I experience a calm and joy that are a direct result of sharing my appreciation aloud.
To quote the incomparable Lewis:
I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.
Body, brain, and soul, we are created to enjoy what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, excellent, and praiseworthy. (See Philippians 4:8.) But we live in a world that celebrates duplicity, death, anger, shame, and self-worship. To give voice to God’s beauty in my life helps me overwhelm the darkness with light.
So here’s an idea for us as we enter into the holidays and count down to this election. What if between now and November 8 we take time each day to tell a detailed story of God’s goodness to us? We can share with someone via phone call, FaceTime, audio message, or best of all—in person!
There’s another habit similar to story-telling that also helps calm my anxious heart. In his book Transforming Fellowship: 19 brain skills that build joyful community, Chris Coursey tells of how he and his wife practice “3x3x3” before falling asleep at night:
First, identify three things from your day that you feel thankful for. Give examples and take turns sharing. Next, identify three qualities you appreciate about the other person. Last, name three qualities about God you feel thankful for. I am struck by the simplicity of the exercise, but I feel grateful for the results! We feel better, lighter, calmer and safer.
(And to state the obvious, you don’t have to be married to do this. Find a friend or roommate who also needs this kind of peaceful, grateful encouragement!)
Dear one, in one way or another let’s keep talking about God’s loving kindness to us. Let’s overwhelm anxiety with appreciation. Let’s drown out the din of doomsday predictions with a mouthful of praise.
Because God is that good (and He’s got it all figured out).
“I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” Psalm 9:1
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