Roots

 "You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but You will restore me to life again and lift me up from the depths of the earth. You will restore me to even greater honor and comfort me once again." Psalm 71:20-21

  Last summer I planted some Elderberry bushes near the road; a favorite of people and birds. Over the years, the once quiet sideroad is growing busier as more houses are built to the north. As the bushes mature and spread they will help block some of the road noise. I chose them as a native species and because there are self sown Elderberries growing in the ditch across the road. It seemed likely they would do just as well, if not better, on my side without having to compete with weeds and long grass. At least, I hadn't expected the weeds.

  I am not sure where they came from. Maybe they were in the lawn before the shrubs were planted or perhaps they came with the bushes. They are particularly hard to get rid of. Pulling the plant is easy. It's what's hidden under the soil that makes it difficult to get rid of them. 

  The plants have tender roots that link them to an infrastructure of runners deep beneath the surface. The slightest tug breaks them free of their foundation but doesn't address the source. The runner roots are both tough and brittle with tiny, hairlike roots. True to the nature of weeds, if the root is broken, it simply sends up new shoots. Some of these are completely entwined with the Elderberry roots which makes it difficult to pull them out.

  I hope to eventually kill these roots by destroying new growth as it breaks the surface. It could take a while but patience and perseverance are part of being a gardener.

  I am still in recovery from last week's panic attacks. I had a good day on Monday tackling other weeds in other gardens. By the time the sun set, it seemed things were back to normal. It was short lived, however. I'd offered to get groceries for work because it was my turn to shop. I woke up Tuesday morning stressed about it but not really knowing why. By the time I picked up a grocery cart, it was all I could do to focus on the list and get out of there.

  My friend came with me and after we got home, she asked me what had happened to send me into survival mode. It was a good question. She also inspired me to think about the roots of the anxiety, using the above mentioned weeds as a prime example.

  So these thoughts, this metaphor has been ticking away in my subconscious since then. I've asked the Lord to show me where the runner roots are buried.

  He has been faithful as He always is whenever I ask, "Why?"

  The root of anxiety is fear. Coming to terms with that has its own challenges because I have Jesus, don't you know, why should I fear? Admitting it means I've failed to trust the Lord completely.

  Maybe that's why I have worked so hard to hide it, deny it, and bury it deep because my life is governed by an all encompassing sense of outright terror and constant vigilance. While I understand this is part of being a trauma survivor, it really sucks the joy out of life. Not only that but it's hard to pinpoint the exact issues that feed it. 

  I guess the next question is, "What am I afraid of?" It's one that has been asked many times but there's a strong sense there's still a network of roots buried deep in my soul.

  This morning came with the revelation of being afraid to make a mistake or do something wrong. (Smile...nothing like tackling the biggest root first is there?) 

  It got me thinking about being in school; how ugly the big red X was. The fact there were more blue check marks never seemed to erase the storm of shame/guilt/fear the WRONG ANSWER instilled in my tender soul. 

  The red X did other things, too. It reminded me I was unprepared for all the questions that might come my way. It punished me for struggling with understanding math...You know, for the most part, school was easy for me. I graduated high school with honors with very little effort put into the work. Hmmm...there's some regret there and maybe that's part of the fear, too. What if I miss an opportunity to do more? I'll pause that line of thought for now, it's another biggie. 

  To be fair, grade 11 and 12 were wrapped in a blanket of depression no one knew about because I felt I was on my own. Needing help was a punishable offence, too, another big red X. It makes me very sad I still think this way because it is so ingrained. I am most thankful the Lord is helping erase this lie.

  Back to the red X. This particular weed has been fed, nurtured and fertilized by so many life events. Some were big but mostly they were little. These are the hardest because their impact accumulates over time. They are the little roots which help the big ones grow aren't they?

  It's time for a reality check. 

  There was a sale item out of stock which rattled my cage something fierce. Not being able to get WHAT WAS ON THE LIST filled me with a sense of failure. The red X ghosts began howling. It didn't matter that the store brand was the same price so the needed item was purchased anyways because the sense of being/doing/getting it wrong flooded into my soul.

  Lord, thank You for showing me all this, hard as it is. I need your help because I am tired of being afraid all the time. Maybe, as I pull weeds in the garden, You can help me find and pull all the thriving weeds from my heart through forgiveness and grace. Show me where this needs to happen, in Jesus' name I pray. AMEN!