“Crack!” The sound of a gunshot echoes through the valley . . . followed by silence. Lots of silence.
Aside from the occasional gunshot and gust of wind, this place is ideal for relaxing, reading and writing.
The gusts of wind are getting more frequent now. The tension in my shoulders and my quickening heart beat tell me it may have been a mistake coming to this middle-of-nowhere cabin. As the regret and anxiety deepen, I try hard to feel God’s love.
I haven’t always believed in God. After much research and resistance, I became a Christian at the age of 21. Not knowing much about the Bible and having never been to church, I was a bit reluctant when someone on my college campus invited me to church. For three years I went to church and studied the Bible, all without believing most of what it had to say. During that time, I learned about the Bible and heard people’s testimonies of how God had worked in their lives. I also spent a lot of time immersed in apologetics, searching for evidence that would help me decide if I was in or out. Since the evidence seemed to be in God’s favor, I decided to believe in Jesus.
Since then, I haven’t consistently believed that God is good, but I am convinced that he has used a number of experiences in my life to remind me of his love.
Ever since becoming a Christian, anxiety and faith have been in continual tension. Upon graduating from college and beginning a career in marketing, I was experiencing significant levels of anxiety – like nothing I’ve experienced before. This wasn’t just social anxiety, which I had struggled with since childhood, this was – to be specific – Generalized Anxiety – anxiety about accomplishments, time, health, relationships, you name it.
However, my adventures with God have increased my faith, and I can say with confidence that I am on the path to recovery. How can I say that when I am experiencing anxiety at a peaceful cabin in the mountains? I hope to answer that question through this blog.