Today I had an extra day off and I had plans. Plans that were quickly thwarted by responsibilities. The softener is out of salt, the dogs are out of food, the fridge is empty, so out in the rain I must go. In slippers, jammie pants, and bed hair, I was super annoyed to be heading into the world today.
I’m lost in my mind during my travels, trying to desperately hold back the anxiety that’s telling me things are spiraling out of control. There are bills stacking up that need paid, work slowing down as we enter a dead season for both of our home businesses, things breaking in our home faster than we can keep up with, children lagging behind on homework, all of the things. If I don’t acknowledge it, it will go away, right? You know Dori’s little song “just keep swimming”? Well mine goes like “just keep trusting, just keep trusting, trusting, trusting all day long.” I remind myself to stop trying to control every situation and trust that God’s got me in his hands. Cut to a phone call that solved a financial portion of my problems. So, while walking down the aisle at Aldi, in pajamas and slippers, on the phone, I find myself unable to stop the tears as God reminds me that I surrendered control to him, and He's still on the task.
Here’s the image He gave me this morning.
Imagine a water pipe bursting. You cover the spewing water with your hand, but the pressure is so great that a new leak breaks free. Your second hand goes up to stop it. You catch your breath and start screaming for help. But the pressure is still there. The third leak catches you off guard because it came from somewhere you weren’t watching. You try to balance so your foot can block the gushing water, but you can’t move your hands because still no one has come to help you control the first two leaks. Where is everybody? Soon there are more leaks than appendages to stop them and you are alone and wet and moving hands and feet to do whatever you can to keep the least amount of water from leaking through. You have stopped calling for help at this point because you must keep all of your energy focused on the problem at hand.
This is the image in my head when I think about me in the control room for my feelings. In order to remind my feelings that I’m in control, I stop them from flowing. The problem is, I don’t have enough control to stop them all at once. So when I stifle my pain, depression comes roaring through the pipes. When I lift my hand off pain to stop depression, shame sprays me in the face. If I try to shut down shame, guilt seeps into my heart with that steady and annoying drip. For a lifetime I have been in this room, trying to prevent my feelings from leaking into my entire home. Always moving my hands from one busted pipe to another, trying to seal the leaks with whatever I have handy.
About three years ago, I felt God prodding me to take my hands off the leaks. To allow Him to fix what was broken, I must first remove the makeshift repair I had made by myself. When I stepped back, I realized I had a room full of worn tape and full buckets. There were no towels left to sop up water. I saw what He saw, and it was scary. The repairs were unreliable and losing their effectiveness. I want to tell you that this day I got my life together and surrendered control. But I didn’t. I said no. I said I've got this! Can’t you see I’ve got this? I’m fine! I don’t mind emptying buckets. I can buy new towels. I’ll just keep adding tape. I’m fine.
A year ago, I wasn’t fine. Running on empty and clean out of buckets, I felt God touch my shoulders. Truthfully, I was annoyed. Don’t you hear me? I don’t want your special plumber’s tape! I don’t want to walk out of this room and trust anyone else to run this shitshow. The room will flood. I’ve tried every patch, tape, glue, and towel there is. This is the only way to stop these pipes from overflowing. Can’t you see that?!
“Daughter.”
How that word melts me when He says it.
“You can’t mend these pipes. They are broken. They are rusted. But if you give me charge over the flow, I can empty the well of this tainted water and rebuild the plumbing. And then I will fill your well with my water.”
Very reluctantly, I took my hands off. And God has indeed delivered in His promise. He came in with his headlamp and brought light to the darkest of corners. He has opened the flood valves and allowed the flow to increase but held me upright in the wave.
But here’s the thing. You can’t fix a leak without getting wet, right? So, as God has spent this last year emptying me of the things I was trying so hard to keep under wraps, the need for that control manifests in other ways. It’s not just a one-time deal. I didn’t just hand the wrench over to God and step back. I keep trying to take it back from Him. I keep stepping in between Him and this project, trying to find a way to insert myself back into a place of authority over my feelings.
Two nights ago, I awoke in the middle of the night in a full panic attack. I knew I was breathing because the physical evidence was there, but I questioned what I knew. My heart was aching with pain as it pounded through my ribs. For some reason, I thought I was dying. The more I tried to reason with myself, the more out of control I felt. I began to weep for my children and pray that God would protect them. I felt physically heavy and truly, inexplicably, had convinced myself that if I fell back asleep, I’d never wake up again. I forced myself to get out of bed. I walked to the kitchen reminding myself that this was not real. I’m not dying. I’ll just stay awake. I can control this.
Except I couldn’t. It only escalated and escalated until I finally was too exhausted to keep up the fight. I just started repeating words to a song in my head. “It may feel like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.” Over and over until all the sudden it was morning and I realized I had fallen asleep at some point. I had to let go of the control and look elsewhere to find relief in that moment.
I’m sharing this with you because, well if I’m being honest, God made me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and in this season of learning to be obedient to the leading of the Holy Spirit, here we are. Maybe it’s for you. Maybe there’s a person reading this who feels exactly like I did. Are you so busy trying to control everything that there isn’t room for real healing? Are you telling everyone you are fine and posting like you are fine and showing up like you're fine, but deep inside you are screaming for help and begging for more hands and buckets?
Call me. Message me. Meet with me.
I’ll tell you a story of a girl stuck in a control room, refusing to give in. I’ll tell you the story of how healing fucking hurts, but the other side brings a joy and peace that only God can give. I’ll tell you that I love you, and you are not alone. Or, at the very least, I’ll come sit in that room with you. I’ll help you empty buckets and change towels. I’ll be with you until you are ready to let the Master Plumber come in and drain your well and repair your brokenness. And I’ll rejoice with you when you taste the new water as you are refilled. Because it’s so good.
