A few days ago, I, unknowingly, started driving to a tornado. I will follow this statement by letting you know that I do not chase storms for a living, nor do I have the Helen Hunt edition of I-like-to-smack-my-gum-and-seek-danger-zones personality, but regardless, the statement is still true. I drove right toward the thing.
I left my house to pick up my stepson from school. I could hear thunder in the distance, but the sun was shining, and I did not think much of it. As I drove the three-mile distance from my house to the school, I noticed a blanket of darkness unfolding in the view ahead, and the clouds rolling ahead of one another, challenging each new motion, in cumulus competition. My radio station cut out, and I heard an automated tone say that if you are in the north central area of my county, to take cover because there is, in fact, a tornado. I have never seen the sky do anything so quickly.
At this point, I was in the line at the school, which consists of a long road through the center of two tree lines, and I heard the city tornado siren blaring through the wind as it steadily picked up. I called the school to see what knowledge they had of this situation and what their plan for the kids looked like, and the woman who answered informed me that the kids were already in the hallway, taking cover as we speak.
Before she hung up the phone, she said, “Well, be safe out there.”
My first thought was that my stepson was safe right where he was in his school. My next thought was that I am out of my mind for still sitting in this car between a thousand trees, and maybe I should plan to actually do something about this . . . like get somewhere safe.
Eventually, the warning was lifted and everything was fine. The tornado went a different direction. What I realized in that moment was that (1) weather still freaks me out (my brother used to provide 5-year-old me with earmuffs and a blanket when it stormed because I got scared), and (2) we spend majority of our time worrying about what is beyond our control, whether long- or short-term moments.
This example was a fleeting moment of time, but in that moment, I will admit that the color of those clouds coupled with that ringing siren had me a little unnerved. In the book, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers, Robert Sapolsky addresses how animals in the wild have stress based on certain isolated episodes, but then they forget about it. For example, a zebra running from a lion only stresses the zebra out until the lion gives up the chase (or catches a slower zebra). The zebra then moves forward with its life in seemingly sustainable peace until its next episode and does not seem to dwell on the issue. We have no wild animals chasing us, but we still find a way to pocket long-term stress and provide it a residence in our minds.
The Bible says
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
Philippians 4:6 (NASB)
Sometimes, it helps you process current stressful situations by looking back to see how far you have come. There is no person alive who has not overcome some moment of stress in their personal history. In addition to that, there is no moment that you will ever live in forever. When I look back, I see plenty of good. I also see things about myself, the worries and tendencies I used to have, and the weaknesses that are no longer there.
I believe that desperation can be one of the loudest scents that you can wear. It can cause stress to stifle every other breathable moment out of the conversation, and there was a time in my life where I thought I knew who I needed to be because it would complement the person whom I thought I wanted to be with long-term. I was in college, brand new to establishing any type of literary voice, and in a new relationship that I thought was what I needed. He always seemed to have one foot out the door, though. I never understood it or recognized the reason, so naturally, I assumed it was because of me. I thought that if I could cook well, maintain intelligent conversations about literary conventions, and responsibly take care of our dog that he would see the value in me that I knew I had. The indifference in his demeanor made me question parts of myself that took years to cultivate. And in compromising naivety and poor judgment, I allowed it to happen. My response was to prove my worth to this person. It’s embarrassing even admitting that now, so many years later, but this whole scene played a significant role in how I became the woman I am today.
I stressed about this to the point that I would practice meals to make before I ever cooked them for him. I took notes when I read books that he recommended to me because I wanted to impress him. And the worst part of all of this is that I felt like I had to do it because I was worried that he would leave me. He had already done it twice. I stressed nonstop about proving my worth to someone because I truly did not believe that he could see any of it. Then I started questioning it myself. That should have been a sign right at the beginning, but 20-year-old me cared less about signs and more about carving my own way out of chaos. (Dislcaimer: nothing about that approach went well.)
Today, I worry about different things: responsibilities, appointments, plans, schedules, learning processes, sensory sensitivities, food aversions, sleeping through my alarm, financial obligations, making sure the people I love are not ignored, co-parenting responsibilities, and time management. I worry about my husband driving an hour back and forth through crazy traffic every other day. I worry about my daughter choking on a peach and deciding she’ll never touch one again. I worry about my stepson getting hurt at football. I worry about their emotions. I worry about their fears. I worry about their stressors and if what I meal plan for is something everyone may like.
A few weeks ago, I was going through one of my books, and I found a piece of paper folded up. When I opened it, I saw the notes that I scribbled while reading Hemingway’s, The Sun Also Rises, which was recommended and even given to me years ago by that person from my past. I had written the notes down like a literary critic would because I wanted to discuss it with him in a meaningful way and show that I was like him and that I had literary vision—that I had a critical mind that matched his. But I wasn’t his match. I prayed a lot about that back then.
Isaiah 41:10 (NASB) says
“Do not fear, for I am with you;
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you,
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
God truly never fails. When I saw the desperation in that crumpled piece of paper the other day, that insecure fragment from my past, I almost laughed at myself before I threw it in the trash. I remembered all of the stress I had day after day about that relationship. It was nearly a decade ago, and I am thankful for not being that girl anymore. I’m grateful that I no longer justify situations that make my stomach knot and twist with worry rather than walking away. I still worry about things, but it takes God out of our situations when we stress constantly, and it indicates to Him that we do not have faith in His plan and purpose if we consume ourselves with worry.
One thing I definitely do not worry over anymore is proving my value to someone. I may worry about tornadoes <— that will likely never disappear. But it took me a long time to realize that love, real love, the kind that comes from God, doesn’t function in that way. And thankfully, I am married to someone who shows me that I am valuable to him every single day.
When I finally married my husband, I knew that was from God. There was a deep-seated peace from minute one with Logan, even as a 16-year-old, he was good. He was good-hearted, and he was good to me. As an adult, he is still true to himself, and he loves God. He is a leader, and I trust him in how he leads. He loves me unabashedly and allows me to be myself. He loves me for who I am without trying to change anything, and there is so much freedom from stress or anxiety in that realization. I knew this love was beyond anything I had ever imagined because there was no selfishness in it. There was no competition, indifference, or doubt mixed into it. He’s compassionate and supportive. He contributes positivity to the moment and does not steal it away. He champions my success and dreams. He never makes me feel like an unanswered question. He never needs a break from my existence.
The tornadoes will blow through, relationships may get rocky, and you may have moments of real self-doubt. You may look back at the person you once were and wonder who that even was, and that can be a good thing.
Growth demands our direct participation in stretching beyond what we know.
Stay true to who you are, the parts and particles that make you unique, and let God carry the burden of those worries that keep you up at night. He will sort everything out, and He already has a plan for it all. Let God be God and trust in Him that everything will work according to His plan and purpose for your life.
God bless,
M
Blue Withens 