Separation Anxiety

               Her high-pitched cries fill the air with sorrow, alerting anyone nearby to her despair. Yoshi, my eleven-year-old poodle/chihuahua, fears being away from me. Time with friends or family is acceptable, but when she must be alone in our apartment, she is extremely distressed. For hours, she howls every five or ten minutes, treating a brief separation like a heartbreaking crisis. When she is not near me, anxiety overtakes her and insecurity is too much to bear.

               We’ve attempted comfort in many forms- calming treats, a thundershirt, long walks, music playing, dirty clothes that smell like me, crate training. Nothing is a substitute for the presence that she truly wants. Nothing can soothe her soul when she feels abandoned. And I understand her panic.

               I long for the comfort and assurance that accompanies the presence of God.

Being near to our Heavenly Father creates a sense of security beyond description. There are times when we experience Him with great intensity, such as in heartfelt worship, in the midst of His creation, or when His work in our lives is unmistakable. Other times, He is a still, small voice, a constant calm in the everyday. His presence is more subtle, but we rest easy knowing He is close. Much like a young child exploring a playground with their parent nearby, we feel God’s eyes upon us as we move about the rhythms of life. But at other times, we suddenly feel lost and dreadfully alone.

               My darkness comes from within.

Bipolar disorder rocks my brain and body as waves of depression crash over me. It feels relentless until mania picks me up and carries me through the emotional ocean with breathtaking exhilaration. But then those waves become aggressively rough. Just when I think it’s too much to handle, I am submerged beneath the surface again and feel like I might drown, until I eventually emerge above the water and seem to surf safely to shore. I await the inevitable tsunami when mania intensifies. Over and over, the perpetual cycle never stops. I want to cling to the constant comfort of the Prince of Peace who never changes despite my unsteady moods. He is the Lord who calms the seas, and if wind and waves can be subdued by His voice, so can the storm of bipolar. And in the meantime, when that storm rages, He is always close by.

Never once does He sail away and leave us desperately trying to survive on our own.

               Just as Yoshi feels secure next to me, so I find stability when I feel God’s presence. Yet, when the darkness overtakes the light, I abruptly lose sight of Him. Though I search and cry out, I can’t feel Him near. It’s as if a dark fog has surrounded me and my Savior is on the other side, out of my reach. I call but receive no reply. I stretch toward where I think He might be, but can only grasp emptiness. Where has my God gone? Why can’t I feel His love? Discouragement overwhelms me and I feel lost without rescue. Prayer becomes difficult and my Bible remains closed. It takes more strength than I have to keep pursuing Someone I can’t find, and the separating cloud grows darker. Anxiety bubbles up in my soul like a fountain of panic.

               What do we do when we are overcome by perceived separation from God? How do we reconnect when crisis seems to come between us?

Family emergencies, financial fallout, health scares, or complications at work threaten to form barriers as we feel farther and farther from the Lord. When anxiety untethers us from our safe spiritual harbor and we drift deeper into the cold, chaotic sea, God throws us a lifeline. We must grasp it with all the strength we have left, a strength not our own, but provided by the Holy Spirit.

               That lifeline is found in scriptures full of promise and truth. God promises to never leave nor forsake us, and the Lord will always be our helper so that we won’t be afraid (Hebrews 13:5-6). Perhaps the most complete and concise reassurance is found in Romans 8:38-39:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

As we grasp that lifeline, He gives us instructions so that we can feel close to Him again.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, 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.”
-Philippians 4:6-7

While we cannot simply stop anxiety by willpower, we can practice prayer and thanksgiving, reaching out to God and repeatedly handing Him everything we have. He promises a peace beyond our comprehension, a supernatural gift we can’t manufacture on our own. Though storms may rage without any sign of relenting, we grasp that lifeline through our desperate prayers while trusting that He has not left us for a single moment.

Our feelings do not measure His proximity.

As a toddler who bursts into tears when their parent is merely out of sight, we, too, experience anxiety when our vision of God is limited. Yet, He is always extremely close. Perhaps He is teaching us about faith and trust. Maybe it’s the darkness of the world that stands in our way, soon to be full of His light. Jesus reassures us as He said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). His love never fails and He never abandons us. He draws near to us as we draw near to Him (James 4:8). When we seek Him, He will be found (Matthew 7:7-8). Separation anxiety is temporary, especially when our hearts understand that we are never truly apart from the Lord.

While we are clinging to the lifeline of God’s word, I’ve found a few other practical ways to reach for Him in the darkness. We can surround ourselves with encouraging loved ones, even if it means being brave enough to admit when we feel lost. We are able to seek God in every place imaginable, and our search will not be in vain, even if it takes some time to see Him clearly. Talking to Him honestly about our fear and other difficult feelings - out loud, in our hearts and minds, or on the pages of a journal- can help us hear His voice as we tell Him our frustration and ask Him about what we don’t understand. When we reach out to our spiritual family for prayer, they can hold on to hope when we feel hopeless, interceding when we have run out of words. This is not a limited list, and there are many ways to run to our Savior. For me, each of these things were crucial in different seasons. When I thought for sure the threatening storm would keep me from Him forever, He rescued me with great compassion and held me close to His heart. We might not feel God’s closeness immediately, but the One who makes the darkness flee loves us with an everlasting, faithful compassion.

Don’t give up, dear friend. He’s right here, holding you close.