Excerpted from "Letting Go of Worry and Anxiety"

Here is an exerpt from Pam's recent book: Letting Go of Worry and Anxiety. This book has been featured on national radio and T.V. during the last months, following 9-11.

Reach Out

"A safe relationship multiplies our joy and divides our grief."

There isn't a person alive who isn't vulnerable to worry and anxiety. We live in an unpredictable world that evokes fear. But acknowledging our anxieties takes courage. We don't easily admit feelings of weakness and vulnerability. For the most part, we harbor a subtle contempt for the debilities or deficiencies we perceive in ourselves and others. And as a result, we end up rejecting key parts of our humanity. We gloss over our needs rather than admit them. We deny, minimize, or at least sidestep many forms of suffering. And we become very creative in the ways we medicate our worries. In the end, we are left to struggle with our anxieties alone in the dark.

God never intended for us to suffer alone. From the very beginning of time, He has wanted people to enjoy intimate relationship with Him and others. He longs to walk arm-in-arm with us - and to provide empathetic friends to walk with us- through the sorrows and sufferings that are an inevitable part of life in this world. Connections matter. When we withdraw, detach, or close God and others out of our suffering, we cut off our source of life and derail our own healing. The bottom line is, God never intended for us to try to handle our worries and anxieties alone. Peace comes in the context of relationships.

God knows our propensity to worry and anxiety and He wants to experience His comfort in our troubles. One of His names is The God of all comfort. The word comfort is mentioned fifty-nine times in the New Testament. In literally means "to call near." The original meaning of comfort evokes a picture of one person calling out to another person to stand alongside them. Fortification comes as we risk reaching out, are transparent in our pain, and allow others to come near.

I recall a final counseling session with a woman I had treated for an anxiety disorder following a radical mastectomy. After several months of therapy, during which she grieved her losses, established new goals, and tried a variety of anxiety-reducing medications before finding the right fit, she was ready to put closure on counseling. I'll never forget her final remark. With tears in her eyes she grasped my hands tightly and said, "Thank you for befriending my pain." It had indeed been my privilege. Witnessing her progress spoke volumes to me about the healing power of connection with safe people to whom we can disclose our deepest conflicts.
As a professional therapist, I spend a lot of time with people in their pain. To help them sort through confusion. To respond to their suffering. To strengthen their will to live when they have been diminished by the cruelties of life. To help them get unstuck when they become arrested in their grief. To validate their afflictions and create a safe place for them to process their pain and let it go. Whether or not a specific problem is solved during a counseling session is sometimes irrelevant. Many issues are not resolved quickly. But healing often happens when someone is allowed to share their suffering with someone safe.

I recall an occasion, years ago, when I was overcome with worry. In spite of using all the anxiety-reduction tricks I knew, I was unable to shake the fear. It all started with a letter.

After the death of our first baby in the womb, I wrote a book to encourage others who were suffering similar losses called Empty Arms: Emotional Support for Those Who Have Suffered Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Tubal Pregnancy. Cards and letters poured in from ladies across the country who thanked me for the book and shared their stories of loss. Four weeks prior to delivering our second baby, I received a letter from a woman who found out her baby had died during her eighth month exam. The doctor had been unable to detect a heartbeat. The details of her story were nearly identical to our experience with our first baby. As I read her letter, all the memories of our loss came flooding back like a tidal wave.

I tried everything I knew to quiet my fears. I prayed. I sang. I used thought-stopping methods. I scrubbed the kitchen floor. I tried reading my Bible and some other good books. But the anxiety continued. My imagination was toxic with worry. Not wanting to burden my husband, or evoke any unnecessary fear in him, I carried the anxiety alone. That, by the way, was not a smart move. And if there is one thing I learned in that three-day, fear-filled episode it was:

Never worry alone!

A few days into this fearful frenzy, I went to Sunday morning church service and asked to talk with our pastor's wife. Even thought she and her husband were new to our congregation and I didn't know her well, I felt I could trust her. "I am riddled with fear," I told her. "I received this letter . . . and I'm afraid the same thing is going to happen all over again." I knew the anxiety was irrational. There was no evidence that the baby I carried was in danger. But, I also realized my powerlessness to find relief on my own.

Diane listened attentively, and I could tell from her responses that she empathized with my struggle. We joined hands and she prayed for me, and for our baby. Although that connection took five brief minutes, it made all the difference in the world. Peace went home with me that day. Healing happened as we connected with God and with one another.

Jesus said, "When two of you get together on anything at all on earth and make a prayer of it, my Father in heaven goes into action. And when two or three of you are together because of me, you can be sure that I'll be there" (Matthew 18:19-20, MSG).

When I think back over the times in my life when I've been overwhelmed by worry and anxiety, my greatest moments of relief came when I sensed that God and a trusted friend were truly present with me in my pain. It was as if they opened the door on my darkness, walked in, sat down with me, and with full acceptance, waited. My brokenness was our meeting place. An inner peace and healing was birthed within that connection. Their companionship in my suffering brought relief, even though the circumstances evoking the pain remained the same.

The same is true for you. There is a Companion who is always awaiting your invitation. God sees. He cares. Your worries matter to Him and to others. You are not abandoned in your pain. God said, "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you" (John 14:18, NIV). Your anxiety is not an obstacle to God's work in you. It is the very place He wants to meet with you.

I have learned that whatever we deny, repress, or hide in the dark cannot be healed. But that which is shared openly and exposed to the light can lead to growth and peace. May God enable us to resist isolation, withdrawal, and shrinking in the shadows. May He give us ears to hear Him whisper, "Peace, be still." In our moments of desperation, may He grant us courage to reach out to Him and humility to reach out to others who can help us peel the death grip off our worries, and let them go.

The deepest need of man is the need to overcome his separateness, to leave the prison of his aloneness. --Erich Fromm

In the book Letting Go of Worry and Anxiety, Pam chronicles 10 tools that can help people who are struggling with worry and anxiety. This chapter is entitled Reach Out, and underlines the important idea: never worry alone. There is a good appendix on anxiety correlated with Hormone fluctuations, and the role of medication. The book is published by Multnomah Publishers, Sisters, Oregon, 2001, 125 pages, $9.99. It is a 3 part series: 1. Letting Go of Disappointment and Painful Losses, 2. Letting Go of Worry and Anxiety, 3. Letting Go of Frustration and Anger (released July 10, 2002). All are available at Christian books stores and on-line at Amazon.com. (Click on the book titles or book covers listed to purchase from Amazon.com through LoveTakesTime.com's link.)