Pursuing Veritas

Another wave of panic hits me. The dread wells up in my heart I can feel my stomach drop, and my whole body begin to buzz. I’ve never been struck by lightning or electrocuted, but I imagine that if I could experience that in slow motion, this is what it feels like. Everything is hot and tingly and overwhelming.

Am I dying? Is there something wrong with my body? Is my body about to give out like it’s giving out on my friends?

I think I’m going to be sick.

I take a deep breath. The feeling lessens a little but is still present. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. in through the nose. Out through the mouth. I repeat myself again and again.

Has anyone ever died while describing how they’re feeling?

*****

I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to die alone. I want to be safe. I want to be saved.

I want to know that I will be okay. I want to know that if something happens to me, my family will be okay. That compounds my fears.

I see it all around me: we never know what will happen with these frail bodies. We never know when we will meet our end and stand before God. And that terrifies me, even when I’m not having a panic attack.

Lord, protect me. Lord, save me.

*****

My Bible app reading plan on panic just shared this verse with me:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27 NIV)

Jesus said that. And I believe that Jesus meant that when He said it. And I believe that those words can be true for me.

But man, I wish I could get some of that peace right now. That peace that allows my heart not to be troubled. That peace that makes me not afraid. I would love not being afraid. I would love peace that prevents me from moving closer to death and instead draws me deeper into life. Why can’t I experience that peace?

*****

Another Bible reading plan I’m in (this one is about living with chronic pain) has this prayer: Lord, thank You for using my imperfect life—and my illness—to bring honor and glory to You. Amen.

I want to be sincere with this prayer. I know God can use my imperfection and my illness—my pain and panic. But right now, it doesn’t feel like it. What good is this mess right now? What good is going to come from me laying here in the middle of the night, needing to remind myself to breathe and that the feelings I’m feeling don’t mean that I’m dying? What honor is my panic bringing God? How does my chest hurting being Him glory?

I don’t think there’s a cute little devotional Turk here. This sucks. It always sucks. There’s no trite silver lining that magically makes this all better.

God is with me in the midst of this. But maybe that’s all right now.

The devotional that prayer comes from includes Psalm 136, the “His love endures forever” psalm. I need that reminder amidst the panic and pain. God’s love does endure, it ensures beyond what I’m feeling and experiencing right now. Yes, I hope that is true, I believe that is true. Man, I need that to be true.

Please let it be true. God is here, in the middle of my panic and pain. And His love endures, even when I do not.