We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
One of the deepest fears we bipolars live is the possibility of a relapse. I live with a chronic illness, and when it flares, it could mean my life.
Now, I know a lot of you don’t really believe me when I say that. But it’s the truth: this illness is a life and death matter for me and so many others living with it.
So, this fear? It has kept me from things. It can be disguised as good common sense, depression. But I know deep in my heart that the calling I answer today has been put on hold until I figured out how to address this fear.
Every day, sitting down to this computer, I pause and hear that fearful voice in the back of my head: What if today’s the day you get lost in the sick? What if today’s the day you can’t put down this bottle of crazy? What if it overpowers you, and you lose everything?
And so, I avoided this work. I stalled in fear.
But, friends, we are not–no matter how much we’re convinced we are–braving the waves of this illness alone. We’re riding the waves, that’s for sure. Some days, they’re kicking my butt. Somedays, I feel my ship groaning as it tries not to break apart. But, He never lets go of me.
No matter how far out on this ocean you’ve roamed, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen dry land, look for the tether and give it a tug. It’s secure. You’re anchored in.
So am I. So, as I spend another day, week, month immersed in crazy, I do what any sailor does before they set out to see:
Lord, I thank you this morning that you’re my anchor. I’m answering your call, and setting out to see. I’m tying this rope right around the middle of my soul, and I trust you to be my anchor. Give me courage, and keep me firmly fastened to you. Amen.
Let’s get’er done!