Anxiety in Art and Faith
They say that life often imitates art. I'm working on a piece right now for a friend who, like me and many others, battles anxiety. A while ago I did a piece called Step of Faith, which is a picture of faith in the midst of anxiety. The girl is stepping out of darkness into uncharted waters, holding up a hand in a prayer to God to reach out from the other side to steady her. Even as I write this I can feel my heart beating fast. I don't like talking about anxiety, as if acknowledging it will somehow give it power, though I know the opposite is true.
I started a Bible study a few days ago that begins with the widow in Mark 13 who gives all she has at the God, even though it is only two small coins. When I was younger, this passage was a comfort. I thought about how it meant that my meager gifts were acceptable to God, and was a rebuke to people who had a lot of money and didn't sacrifice for Him. I could see myself on the "winning side" of that story. But as I've gotten older, gotten married, and had children, I find that I cling to my "coins" much more tightly.
Five years ago, just after we moved back home from Alabama, my best friend and I were sitting on my back deck talking about how well things were going in our lives. We had been through much together growing up - me losing my home to Hurricane Floyd and her losing her father to cancer. We were thankful for how well things were going for both of us at present, but both of us also battled a sense of dread, of what was coming around the corner. We wondered if that was wrong, why we felt that way, and if it indicated a lack of faith. It turned out that many very difficult things were around the corner, things much more difficult than we could have imagined, things that are still playing out and still bringing with them much fear and heartache.
Our pastor preached about lament on Sunday, on being honest with God about our sorrows and fears. Lament is something I'm very familiar with. When difficult things happen in life, I tend to write poems and songs, and they often reveal to me how I really feel about the situation. It's a way of making sense of life for me. Lament has been the theme of most of my writing for the past few years.
God has been so gracious to me, and I can see His hand even in the difficulties of life. Much of my art and writing has come from this difficulty, and even my willingness to share it. I know I wouldn't be selling my work right now if I hadn't been through the trials over the past few years. Art was my therapy, something I had to have to get through those periods, and God graciously gave me back a part of my life that I thought was lost in order to cope with the difficulties I was going through. But even though I've seen His hand, I still find myself fearing Him - not in the way we are supposed to fear Him - but in a way where I struggle to trust in Him and His goodness. I battle fears both rational and irrational. My prayer is often, "I believe; help my unbelief!"
During a particularly dark time a few years ago, I wrote the song below. I'm pretty insecure about sharing my songs, but they are probably the most truthful reflections of who I am at any given point in time. When I wrote this one, I was thinking about the poem Footprints in the Sand. I thought about how Jesus explains to the man walking on the beach that the times in life where there was only one set of footprints weren't times when Jesus had abandoned the man, but the times He was carrying him. It was a time when I felt like I looked down and only saw one set of footprints, and desperately hoped He was carrying me. I don't know why God is putting it on my heart right now to share this, but I know these kinds of experiences are "common to man" and I pray it will minister to someone.
The Lord Only Knows
I've been on a mountain too high to come down,
And I've been through the valley where He used to come around,
Tried to cry out to Jesus, but the wind took my cry,
So I pour out my troubles to anyone passing by;
'Cause the Lord only knows all about my sorrow,
And the Lord only knows if I've stepped out of line,
And the Lord only knows, on this road that I travel,
If He's carrying me, or if I've left Him behind;
When I was a girl I thought that I saw Him,
He was calling to me when the water was high;
He stood on the bank and He offered me comfort,
But I don't see Him now, and I've stopped wondering why;
'Cause the Lord only knows all about my sorrow,
And the Lord only knows if I've stepped out of line,
And the Lord only knows, on this road that I travel,
If He's carrying me, or if I've left Him behind;
Well I know He went through the deepest of darkness,
He felt all alone, and I might feel the same,
But I just pray, at the end of my traveling,
That the Lord will look down,
And He'll call out my name;
Cause the Lord only knows all about my sorrow,
And the Lord only knows if I've stepped out of line,
And the Lord only knows, on this road that I travel,
If He's carrying me, or if I've left Him behind;