Modus Operandi

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8

There is a scene in the movie Jurassic Park where a sad victim unfortunately learns up-close-and-personal about the hunting methods of velociraptors, a carnivorous species of dinosaur. They travel in packs, and as one stands in front of the prey to distract his attention, the other raptors take him out from the sides. I feel like satan attacks this way. I find myself fixed in the direction I am assuming he will be throwing punches, feeling rather confidant with all my defenses up in expectation, and as I get surprisingly steamrolled from the side, I think, "Wow, never saw that coming!"

My latest sideways assault came tonight at a concert. I was feeling fine, enjoying the bands, footlose and fancy free - and then I got blasted by a huge panic attack. It came out of nowhere. It happened so fast this time: the spasms in my chest which seem to always preclude an event; a racing heart; the shakes; hot flashes; sweat.

1 Peter 5:7 says: "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you," and Phillipians 4:6-7 says: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." But in the midst of the tidal waves of overwhelming emotions and irrational fears and harsh physical reactions, I can't bring myself to conjure a single lucid thought, let alone remember to call on God for help. The limited options I have found myself electing in the thick of it are Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! and RUN RUN RUN!

I started having panic attacks about a year and a half ago, right after I became a Christian. My pastor told me it might be a response to giving up control to God, or perhaps one last attempt by satan to keep me from trusting Him, or most likely, a combination of the two. I saw a counselor who helped me deal with the attacks themselves, as well as figuring out the underlying causes behind why I was having them. I have struggled with anxiety every now and then since those visits but have not had another full fledged panic attack until tonight.

They make me feel so silly because I see it as me attacking myself. That my own head is causing all of this. The worst kind of toxic relationship. And I begin to feel like a loony bird. It makes me feel like crying. And I want to run out of wherever I am to a safer place - a place where I can hide and be a loony bird and no one will know or see but me. But this time I denied my normal inclinations and grabbed two friends, brought them into the other room and asked them just to sit and talk with me til it was over. And eventually, it was.

But what I want to know is, if everything that happens to us has to be filtered through God's fingers to come to pass, why is God giving His OK to this mess? Why couldn't I have "suffered" from something more appealing? Like an overly active metabolism, a grossly excessive income, or too cute a nose? Ugh, I hate it.

But Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:7-9: To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

So, maybe my anxiety is the thorn in my flesh, the torment which reminds me that I can't do this on my own. I'm sure I've pleaded with God way more than three times to take it away from me, so I guess it does continually bring me back to Him. But apparently his magnanimous grace is more than sufficient, even for my pathetic self-inflicted weaknesses.

I wish I felt that was true as much as I know it is true.