Anxiety Amid Hard Times

Anxiety isn’t a stranger to me. In elementary school, even though I KNEW the answer, I would be anxious to raise my hand just in case I was wrong and make myself look foolish. I would sweat at the thought of being surrounded by people I love who might call me out on something I didn’t want to talk about. I picked at my skin to calm myself, knowing that would only cause sores to develop, and then I would worry if someone would ask what was wrong with me.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God” (Philippians 4:6 NIV). These are wonderful words from the Apostle Paul. But seriously, can I do this? How do I apply this to MY life? It surely cannot apply to me. Paul doesn’t know what I’ve gone through!

My husband Dave and I were married in 1996. He was everything I hoped for. He was my new start after going through a divorce from my first husband. Dave took my son Michael into his heart without a blink of his eye. Life was going well for us. All we wanted was another child. However, both of us had issues with our fertility. After 19 long months, we became pregnant with our son Devin and welcomed him with open arms in April 1999. Once again, we were on top of the world, this time with a new house and thriving in our jobs. Anxiety at this time was lower.

But then, our third child, Jacob, was conceived as a complete and utter surprise. Jacob was born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus, a neural tube birth defect that happens early in the pregnancy. He was also born with multicystic encephalomalacia. This occurred sometime before birth when Jacob was deprived of oxygen, which caused major damage to multiple areas of his brain, and in turn, caused cysts of fluid to replace brain tissue.

That started our journey into the special needs world; a place I truly did not want. I was so angry at God. Why me, God? Did I not already have enough on my plate? Why bring me further and further into anxiety and despair?

Then it happened. Jacob was diagnosed with meningitis and he stopped breathing, luckily in the hospital. In fact, he turned blue in front of my eyes and my precious Jacob was resuscitated in front of me. That moment was forever burned into my brain as the turning point into adding PTSD to my anxiety.

Jacob survived this infection and in fact, went on to face many more life-threatening medical issues. Each time he came through, we praised God for his never-failing love. Our son, though severely disabled, was the absolute joy of our lives. And yet every time, my level of anxiety took a new turn.

In September 2012, our family was attending a church event. My husband Dave had made some poor choices the night before in which alcohol had been involved. Despite this, he attended the event, only to need to go home shortly after our arrival. I brought him home, extremely upset and disappointed in his behavior. As I left him at the house, he told me was going to the bathroom and then to sleep. An hour later, I returned home with the rest of the family, only to be greeted by my son Michael. He had come home 15 minutes after I left, at which time he never saw Dave. He didn’t know he was supposed to be home. We began a search for Dave and an investigation into his disappearance. Dave has never been found and has been legally declared deceased by the courts. Not only my life, but the lives of my three boys were shattered.

The years after his disappearance have been a complete and utter blur, from the despair of losing my husband, working with the sheriff’s department on searches and still not having any clue what happened, to losing my job as a result of his disappearance, and the indescribable pain in having so many of my friends and acquaintances from our community turning their backs on our family, or simply not understanding what we have been through. My anxiety during this time was at an all-time high. I was not doing well, mentally or emotionally. 

In September 2015, Jacob began to have serious issues with the shunt in his brain. We knew that we were in the final days of his life here with us. It was during this time that something indescribably beautiful began to happen. Instead of constant, agonizing anxiety, I began to look at his final days as a gift from God. I treasured each moment with Jacob even more than I had before. I took the time to study each and every inch of this amazing child I had been given. I held him extra-long, memorizing each feature. 

We spent hours listening to praise and worship songs, talking about Jesus and heaven, and how Jacob would again see his daddy. On November 20, 2015, I held my sweet boy and told him to run as fast as he could the second he saw his daddy. I reassured him that he could now be super strong, run and fly as the words in Isaiah 40:31 promise, “But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.”

I have never felt so much comfort as I did in that moment. My son had completed his earthly journey and it had been incredible. This child who had come when he was least expected, with disabilities I was not ready for, changed my heart and mind and LIFE in ways I could never have been able to comprehend on the day he was born. God used this beautiful child to help heal my anxious heart to show me that the very things I was most anxious about did not hold merit compared to the amazing love God showed me every day through the privilege of raising my son.