An open letter to the woman who fears the worst will happen ~
I know you. I know what it’s like. But you need to hear what I’m about to tell you.
Two weeks ago, we started a Sunday like every Sunday. Smoothing the church clothes, pulling out snacks, sipping the coffee.
In one split second, it would not be a Sunday like every other Sunday. In 99.9% of all homes, it wouldn’t matter that someone ate the wrong breakfast. But we are not 99.9% of all homes. My son has rare, life-threatening food allergies, which many of you know.
I realized it a second too late. He’d hardly swallowed it before I had the epi-pen out, and then accumulated a very long list of My Worsts, incarnate.
Sam ate the wrong food.
I give him the epi-pen.
We call 911.
The epinephrine doesn’t work.
Ride in an ambulance.
I need to give him a second epi-pen.
EMTs are horrible and won’t take it seriously.
The SECOND epi-pen doesn’t work.
We are in the ER.
Sam has trouble breathing.
We get sent to ICU.
And you have it. I have listed 11 of my “worst-case” scenarios, all happening in one morning, on one Sunday. For six years, I have lived nearly every waking moment dreading these moments. Preventing these moments. Being terrorized by these moments. Can we all agree these are some awful things? And one Sunday, they come true.
Can I tell you the deep, dark secret about this Worst, coming true?
It was okay.
It was okay.
No. “Okay” is the wrong word. Like a neutral. Or a nothing. And that is the wrong idea. The truth is, it was hard and unreal and scary, but at the same time, it was special, and holy, and there was community and people praying and loving us and God Being There.
Like my college professor from a decade ago, when I asked him about his battle with colon cancer.
“There were nights,” he wrote me, “when I was in such excruciating pain that I wasn’t sure I would make it to the morning. But God was there. And these moments – while I would not wish them on anyone, I treasure them for myself.”
Yes. That.
The truth is, when I look back on the two days in the ICU, I do not see fear and badness and pain. I see God, working through me, to save Sam. I see everyone praying, churches all over town, in their Sunday morning services. I see our pastor, rushing across town to be with us, to kneel down beside the bed and pray with Sam. I see myself praying in that side room with CNN droning, and God, right there. I know he was. I see my parents arriving, needlessly dressed in church clothes, chatting with Sam, bringing us food. I see us making jokes, even as the numbers and the swelling came down, and we could see him getting better.
Guys, it wasn’t awful.
And if I’m honest with myself, I can see the same refrain sung over my life. The hardest moments of all – the ones I dread and fear and stay up at night, sick stomach stewing – in the moment, It Is Fine. It’s almost like He gives us the strength at the time, and not before. It’s almost like that.
Can you see it, too? Has it been true for you?
Sweet friend who fears the worst might happen ~ can I ask you – ask us – a question?
Is it possible (could it be?) that in carrying tomorrow’s burdens, that in living in the torment of the what-ifs, that in dreading and planning and scheming to keep it from happening – it is possible that we are suffering a torment for more lonely, more terrifying and longer-lasting than The Awful Thing itself?
Put simply, it is possible that our Fears are the worst thing that could happen to us?
I think it is possible. It has happened to me.
When I look back on my life, the worst and most horrible burden I have carried is anxiety. Fear over things that never actually happened. Fear over things that – when they did happen – I had the perfect amount of strength to do it.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
It is the hardest thing, to live in today just in today. Even now, I write this post, and my mind jumps to, “Sure it was okay. But what if next time…” And do you see it? There it is. Me, inventing new problems, picking up new burdens.
I can do today. I can.
And so can you.
Hear me, worried friend. If you want something to fear, fear your anxiety. If you want something to work on, work on your worry. Of course I can’t see the future – and most of you, I don’t know at all.
But I can tell you, deep from the wells of experience, that the problem we dread or wouldn’t even imagine we would go through, He will carry us through. There is no strength for imaginary burdens ten years from now. Carry today’s. It is perfectly sized. You can do it.
~
I would love to hear from you. Have you seen this to be true? Have you found that when something difficult came, you had the strength to face it?
Follow "Smartter" Each Day on Facebook!
Follow Jessica on Instagram!
Want my "Favorite Things" newsletter?
I hate lots of annoying emails, so I won't send them! Just motherhood + life tips, a few times a month.
Follow
Typically my nature isn’t prone to a lot of anxiety. I’m just not a worrier. But three weeks ago, my son was born stillborn and since then, part of my grieving process has been a lot of fear. Just one week later, I had to put my daughter to bed with a fever. A couple of days later, it was my son that I was putting down with a fever. I went to bed those nights so fearful. But you’re right, our fear doesn’t accomplish anything. Our kids aren’t any safer for us being anxious. I often have to remind myself that just because one bad thing happens doesn’t mean it’s going to be a spiral effect in my life and everything is just going to fall apart.
Also, I really can echo your statements about God meeting you in such a hard time. Losing our son has been SO hard. We are sad and miss him and wish things had happened differently. But God is caring for us in it all. We have been encouraged by many kind providences that remind us that He is both good and sovereign. On the day we went to the hospital, we listened to the hymn “God Moves In a Mysterious Way” and it really ministered to my heart while we waited for the worst.
“Ye fearful saints fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.”
Dear grieving mama, I will pray for you. In the past two years, I have delivered two precious baby girls whose spirits were already with Jesus. We made it past twenty weeks, but not to term. The loss is terrible and I still ache every day. However, I have seen and am still seeing the hand of God at work. I hate what has happened and I long for the comfort of another new life to hold, but I know that whatever happens, God is at work for His glory and our good. I trust that, even when I can’t see and it all makes no sense to me. Each time, God has given me comfort through music (Day by Day) and His Word (Psalm 57:2). May you feel His presence during this time of sorrow and be comforted.
Lisa! I had no idea! My heart breaks for you. Thank you for sharing. I’m praying for you now and when you come to mind! I pray that the Lord will use this in your story, and comfort your family now!
My husband and I nearly lost our first child and I remember the unusual comfort and relief I got from just knowning that God loved my baby more then I ever could. I just gave it over to Him. I simply can’t imagine how a person who doesn’t know Christ can make it through times like these. Especially, Lisa, when the outcome is one like yours. Lisa, I don’t know the hymn you are speaking of but I just love the words you posted! They give a glimpse into this unusual comfort and relief I am speaking of. We only recieve it when we trust in the Lord. Thanks for sharing and God bless you and your family.
Yes, absolutely. God gives us everything we need to face what He has called us to face, but not the things we fear facing. Still, it’s been such a battle in the past month after losing our baby. I’ve been meditating on God’s promises and trying to focus on enjoying today rather than fearing tomorrow’s hypothetical situations. Thanks for writing this. It’s exactly what I needed to read today.
Wow! You put a whole new perspective on this. I’m so glad your little one is alright! Thank you for sharing this post. I really need to stop worrying about the what-if’s. I’ll make it through them with God’s guidance IF they happen. Thank you for the gentle reminder. I really needed this today!
Thank you so much for posting this. I have lived in fear daily since my son was in the PICU at 2mi the old Auth a 4year old too. Today, both my boys came down with fever and we have been at dr and hospital getting chest xrays. I have prayed, talked to God and thought about your post all day. Tha k you for posting this so I know I am not alone in the extreme anxiety.
“it is possible that we are suffering a torment for more lonely, more terrifying and longer-lasting than The Awful Thing itself?” This really sums up your article quite well. I don’t suffer with anxiety but the worry thing gets me more then I would like to admit. I need to remember this.
Our son, Tony, died at 18 years old in a home accident almost nineteen years ago. The grief continues in new forms as God helps me carry it. I want moms to know that you don’t have to “get over it, move on, or stop remembering.” If you allow God to lead and direct, this horrific burden is lifted up and your heart is lighter. I live in fear each day, for my husband, our daughter, and now our grandson – who looks so much like our son. After all this time, I haven’t found a switch that allows my brain to shut that off. But, God gives me a word, a distraction, some peace in the MIDST, stronger than I was before.
I have an INSPITE OF faith, not BECAUSE OF one. This world fails. Our bodies fail, our environment and circumstances fail. I’ve never seen God as a puppet-master, using sin or heartache to accomplish a purpose – but he comforts and directs us through it. We live in a world where terrible things happen. God always intervenes, but not in ways we are normally able to see or understand.
We may experience the same, or worse, hardships as others, but what would we do without God to see us through?! That would really be death. And litterally, a life without God will be death. Ours is eternal life, and soon for each of us – that will be fulfilled, leaving this world’s pain behind us. In the meantime, there are different joys to receive and others to help. <3
Yes! The way in which God carried us through our loss last summer was BEYOND what I could have imagined. God showed up and was so good. Yes, there was loss and tears and pain but I was not lost in the pain and sadness. I was with my Heavenly Father, and He sure is good. Thank you for sharing, friend!
One of my biggest fears was that I would have a child with disabilities. When my second son was born and he DID indeed have disabilities and we had to spend 3 months in the NICU, it was exactly as you said. God was with me – and still is. In fact, I look back on that season of pain and struggle with tender fondness and memory of my Lord being closer than ever before. We saw His hand of grace and comfort and provision every day. My biggest fear was not bigger than my God. “I sought The Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears…” Psalm 34.. I love your heart, jessica! Thank you for sharing so honestly!
Thank you for this. I was diagnosed with PTSD and Panic Disorder as a teenager and it’s been such a struggle. It comes and goes, of course, but it always comes back. I’m pregnant right now with my second son and I’ve been having panic attacks again, this post was very encouraging to me.
I have never been a very anxious person. I’ve had my worry moments here and there. My mom is a wonderful mom but a big worrier, and my mother-in-law is the opposite. I’ve learned so much from her about taking my fears and concerns to God like when my husband was deployed. “No news is good news” was our motto, even after not hearing from him for two weeks straight. We knew God was protecting him, but of course I thought the worst sometimes. I’ve never felt the presence of the Lord more, reassuring me that he had a plan and to trust in him.
The first time I was pregnant resulted in a miscarriage. I thought that I had done something wrong, or perhaps if I just didn’t move, I could rescue the baby. However, God had other plans for our sweet child and that baby’s spirit is with Him. As I was grieving and, yes, angry even, I felt God comforting me. He was letting me know he was in control with his timing and my life.
So, yes, in my experience, even when I imagined the worst or when part or all of the worst happened, God’s presence was be felt even stronger.
So true! I struggle with fear and anxiety… But there’s no need to because God is always there. Thank you for sharing your story and encouraging others.
This post is like a sweet salve.
It is 1:20am and I am lying awake crying in anticipation of driving five hours tomorrow for Christmas. My dad is in the ICU due to a throat cancer and I’be barely been able to keep it together. The whole process has been heart wrenching.
Yet, I only feel suffocated when I heap my thousands of “worst cases” onto the reality. The reality is harsh enough.
So why do this?
Well, I do this as a defense mechanism. To guard and protect myself from being blindsided.
This is my own personal problem that your post has helped me see. I take the reigns of my own protection. I ignore He who can protect me better.
So thank you for your truth in such a despairing time. He is capable.
Wow! I needed to read this. I am having my baby in 4 weeks and I have serious fears and they become obsessions which I can’t get out of my head. It’s so hard to try live in the moment, but I am trying. And it helps to know that I am not alone in this fear.
I cried when I read your blog. The line of, “but what if next time…..?” is exactly where my thoughts were. I’ve always been a bit of a worrier, but in 2009 we lost our youngest to SIDS and out of that grew a monster within me that I have not been able to squash since. The night our baby died, my mother-in-law stated, that because our baby died, the state would come and take our other children. I knew I had done nothing wrong, but the whole week we waited for autopsy results and to be released by the police to take her bed down, the whole week I should have been allowed to mourn, I spent terrified that I wouldnt lose not one child, but all over something I could not have foreseen nor prevented. Since then I am a slave to my fear that I will lose another child and I worry incessantly over them. It is like living in a nightmare 24/7.
HI Sarah, Thank you for sharing. My heart breaks for you! As someone who has lived too many days chained by anxiety. I encourage you to pursue professional help. That sounds cold and official, but I mean it from the depths of my heart! I am who I am today because of Christian counseling and medication. Saying a prayer that the Lord wraps his arms around you today.