Knock and It will be Answered

 
  “Lord, don’t hold back your tender mercies from me. Let your unfailing love and faithfulness always protect me. For troubles surround me—too many to count!” Psalm 40:11-12
 
  I had an appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday. After sharing about the hyper vigilance, he offered wise advice such as getting some short term counseling.
  I went hunting for options. You know, the internet has online groups for those of us who suffer with this malady. They might be worth checking out. My pastor has also offered to be there for me if I need to talk.
  There’s the writing, too. Prayers typed out. God’s way to bless me with insight.
  The doc said something very affirming, too, about the lifelong challenges of PTSD. “It’s the gift that keeps on giving…be kind to yourself.”
  It is life long.
 
  That realization hit me hard after work. I came home very tired from paying attention to my mind and body in their hyper mode. I was aware how much I listened and when a noise happened like a thump from the upstairs apartment, nerves fired in preparation to run before it was assessed and discarded as non-threatening. This happens in less time than it takes to blink. It happens a lot throughout the day.
  There is an upside…Lord, you always help me find the upside! Despite the general noises of the building, I can quickly identify a knock at our door without fail. Hmmm…is that part of why I listen so hard? I don’t want to miss meeting the needs of our visitors?
  Downside: paying attention like this feeds the need to listen, too.
  How do I begin to differentiate the two? How do I turn off the inner body guard while still performing the duties of my job?
  I have no idea.
 
  A memory has surfaced. My ex worked shift work. Late evening would have me listening for the sounds of his stirring. One, to make sure he woke up and two, the moment the shower turned off, I would leap up to put the kettle on, make some toast and pack his lunch. There were consequences if I didn’t.
  This is not love, by the way. Nor was it motivated by love. Fear had superseded the love I had for him by this point in our relationship.
  My daughter shared with me years later how much she hated when I did this. I regret teaching her the unspoken lessons about being a woman she learned from my submissive, fear filled behaviours.
  So fear…fear of what? Abandonment? Rejection? Loss of financial security? Having someone angry at me? Failing in my duties as wife? (Lord, I thought we’d dealt with that!)
  It’s ironic that all this fear became the reality but that’s why I came to know Jesus. While there has been tremendous healing, thank You for showing me there is still stuff hidden deep in the recesses of my brain.
 
  Remembering this has uncovered a couple of core beliefs: I have to listen in case I miss something and fail in my duties. Failing at my duty is the path to upheaval and destruction of life as I know it.
  Core beliefs have a tendency of being vague and all encompassing (not to say exaggerated.) Whether or not they are true doesn’t matter. They are formed through a subjective perspective that shapes how I experience, view and remember personal events. They are a truth shaped by how I see the world. In turn, they shape how I see the world. Groan…it’s complicated.
  It’s good to know Jesus is filling my soul with fresh perspectives and gradually replacing such destructive understandings with things that are far, far better.
 
  I have co-workers who are also listening for a knock at the door. It's not all on me.