How to Deal

When something is bothering me, I have a pattern of behavior that follows my process of dealing with it. It's kind of a funny system, but it works. Sometimes, however, I have to skip steps depending on my schedule or what the issue is. But here are my steps, and what they mean.

1. Whine

The first thing I do when something is bothering me is tell everyone I trust. I tell the story over and over again and ask for advice or just complain about it to someone who will commiserate. My mom, my K.i.S.A., my roommate, my best friend, the guy I work with that always comes into my classroom, friends on Facebook who will 'listen', the girls in my prayer group... they all hear the story, slightly modified not to protect myself or anyone else, but rather to give me variety in telling it. It's the same story, just told slightly differently so that I don't feel like I'm giving a memorized speech. And as I hear it, I notice things I didn't pick up on, so by the fifth or sixth telling, I may have many more observations to note than at that first telling, when all I knew was that something was wrong.

2. Wind down

All this storytelling has got me tired, and the stress of the issue wears me out as well. Sometimes I cry at this stage, sometimes I don't. Usually I feel like I need to cry but can't. By this time I, like Bilbo Baggins before he heads off for Rivendell, "...like butter scraped over too much bread". I am worn out, and it shows on my face. So I flee to my bed for rest. I take midday naps. I go to bed early and get up late. I sleep whenever I get the chance, just to relieve the weariness that courses through my veins.

3. Withdraw

Regardless of how much I'd like to sleep my troubles away, life does go on, and I have to deal with it. I still have to grocery shop, go to my job, see friends, and run errands. And during this time, I end up driving a lot. But all those quiet times when I'm alone in my car start wearing on me, and this is when Satan can whisper most clearly into my ears, "You're not going to make it. You're not enough. Not strong enough, not bold enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not capable enough, not wise enough, not desirable enough, not old enough... You fail this test." And when he lies to me like that, I do one thing: I turn up my music. I listen to songs that encourage me, make me feel better. I listen to it so loud that it fills my mind and there's no room for the Liar. It's my spiritual equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and chanting, "LALALALALALALALA! I can't hear you!" Eventually he gets tired and goes away. And then, sometimes, the tears finally come.

4. Write

When I've had enough time to think, to ruminate, to mull over the issue in my mind, when the issue seems clearer to me (though I may not have a solution yet), I sit down here and just let my fingers go. They fly across the keyboard, most of the time freely. I am only marginally aware of what I'm writing. But my fingers know how to express my feelings, and so they go, typing, typing, typing, and then I click "Publish Post" and the issue gets chipped away at, just that much more.

5. Wonder

Usually, I make a point of going to sit outside for half an hour or so per day. The real reason for this is to make sure I get the vitamin D that I need But when I have a problem, the walls of the house start closing in on me. I begin to suffocate, and sitting on the porch in the warm sun or protected from the chilly rain calms my spirits. I can think, and I am reassured. This is when God speaks to me. I hear Him clearly, not in the crashing thunder or the raging fire or the great wind, but in the rustle of the leaves. In the beating rays of the sun. In the skittering of a lizard, the buzzing of a hummingbird. The warmth of the sun is His arms wrapping around me. The soft sound of leaves is His shushing my outcry. The sway of the branches is Him rocking me on His chest, soothing me, telling me it's going to be okay. I bask in this, and then I go inside and feel better.

6. Wander

When the issue is particularly troublesome, I find that I have to escape from my life, if even just for a day. I make myself a sandwich, take some water, grab my Bible, and go. To the mountains, or to the beach, or to walk around the lake. I sit down and read God's words, wherever He leads me to read. Sometimes I write down my thoughts and prayers. I cry out to God, reminding Him of His promises to me. Sometimes I am angry with Him. Sometimes I despair. But in those times when I'm alone with God, He listens. And then in my heart I know what to do. The words don't come in a voice, or even in the rustling of the trees this time. Just a calm assurance from the center of my chest. A growing warmth and security. This is the answer. And this... is the end.

The issue is gone, dealt with, vanquished. I drive home in silence because I don't need to drown out Satan's lies. I am insulated by the Truth of my Savior.