Lately it feels like life is spiraling out of control. For awhile it was just because I was so busy, busy, busy finishing my book, but now it's more like things are constantly happening in the world around me that I have no control over, reminding me just how much this life is not ours, but our Heavenly Father's. It's hard for me to think about, that it's His hand allowing all these things to happen, unimaginable things, but I try to have faith that He knows what He's doing, that there's a reason for it all.
I've struggled lately, for a few months now, with a hot bed of not-so-pleasant feelings, primarily numbness towards things I should care about and anxiety, which has peaked to levels it's only been at before when I was pregnant and hormonally crazy. I didn't know why it was, but it was scary. Really scary. To the point where I was scared to leave my house. I went to a new doctor who determined that one of my meds was all wrong for me, and the other had simply run its course after 11 years. Stopping both of these cold turkey and starting two new meds in the same week my final book revisions were due sent my anxiety levels through the roof. I was certain the med changes would make me sicker than a dog, despite the doctor's insistence it would not. He told me to be optimistic. My mom told me to have faith. I tried both, and learned a great lesson in trusting in the Lord and in doctors. I was mildly nauseous and a little drugged-feeling for about a week, but nothing I couldn't handle. And I finished my book, days before schedule.
Throughout all of this, which is and always has been (and will undoubtedly always be) MY trial in life, I have been repeatedly humbled to witness the trials that others are going through. I know everyone has their own trials, and something that can seem minor to one person can be another person's Gethsemene, so to speak. I truly, truly believe this. But I also believe that there are some people in this world whose trials are more than anyone should ever have to bear, more than what most people could ever dream of handling. And as I hear of their suffering, I realize the only term to describe the way I feel is "heavy-hearted." When I think of these precious spirits going through these nightmarish physical ordeals, and the pain and anguish their loved ones must endure watching them go through it and having no knowledge of what the future may bring, I feel a pit in my stomach and a weight in my chest that I know is but a fraction of what they are feeling.
It makes me feel guilty, for spending so much time lamenting my own problems, so minor in comparison. It makes me grateful, that I do not have to go through such a baptism by fire. It makes me grateful for the perspective it provides, for the slap-in-the-face-get-over-yourself wake up call it gives me that I so badly needed. It makes me feel helpless and desperate feeling, that I can't do anything for them, and it makes me grateful, for once, to know that I'm not in control, something that has almost always caused me anxiety. It's these times when I NEED to know that someone much greater than me is in charge, and that through Him, it will all be alright.
I feel so blessed to have the knowledge that I have, and that those I know of that are suffering have it too. It is this, I know, that will get them through their trials, just like it will get me through mine.