When I was at school, probably 15 or 16 years old, I wrote an assignment and did an oral presentation about BoyGeorge and Michael Jackson. At that time they were counter-culture. Christians believed they were “of the devil”, which was the prevailing theme of my assignment. So funny, and yet so relevant when I think about it now. 

I’m reminded of that shy, anxious girl who did it afraid!! She spoke truth wanting to vomit. She often did vomit. I remember my knees shaking violently, trying desperately to hold back tears, sometimes unsuccessfully. I remember being ridiculed and tormented by my peers.

That girl had the courage to challenge the emerging narrative. She not only challenged societal issues, but also the emerging narrative of her own life. 

Consumed by anxiety, my childhood and teen years dealt me a somewhat harsh blow. The anxiety was born out of circumstances beyond my control. 

There are many tributaries along the journey through life. We often encounter moments that feel like walking over a grave. Moments we feel sure we’ve walked this road before. Moments from the past that inform our emotional response in the present. 

The roads we travel provide an opportunity to react or respond. When the path is littered with hurts, injustice, broken promises, and defilements, the amygdala remembers the emotions we experienced during the trauma. The response robs so many of us of our destiny. 

Consumed by fear, we fail to thrive. Not allowing ourselves to fully embrace and experience real joy. Instead we are guided by the happenings that stole our happiness. Happenings that keep us running, keep us fighting, or keep us emotionally frozen in the time and place that defiled us. 

It’s only by stepping back from the fire that consumes our emotions, that we encounter peace and clarity. I am safe! This isn’t that time or place. I’m not a child. I grew up. I’m okay. 

My narrative goes a step further and includes, God You’ve got this, and You’ve got me. 

My response now is not born from anxiety and fear. Leaning into the fiery emotional response, I’m no longer frozen with fear. I don’t need to fight, or flee. I can stand assured! We can rest, assured! 

My story is informed by an enduring faith that continues to anchor me, ground me, and hold me when I’m unraveling. And should I ever need reminding of how I’ve been set free from the merciless memories, there was a cross that bore my burdens, where another died for me.