Little Victories

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

For a long time, back when things were pre-COVID and we were allowed to gather en masse with countless individuals, I was often greeted on Sunday mornings at church by the same man. He was not an “official greeter” (you know, the ones that hand you a bulletin and compliment your choice of shoes), he was just a fellow congregant who was friendly, kind and outgoing. I soon came to learn his name was Glen.

“Good morning!” Glen would always greet me enthusiastically, often adding my name to the sentiment. “How are you doing on this lovely morning?” It was general but it was congenial. It was the perfunctory kindness of a fellow church attendee. I never felt like it was empty or disingenuous, but I did feel like it was a long-time habit of this gentleman to meet his fellow believers with a hearty greeting.

“Oh, good, thanks.” I would reply, or “I’m doing alright, how about you?” Pleasantries. One of the un-official perks of being a Christian. Nice people.

But... our interactions changed one day. This was after I had the opportunity to visit with his wife, an equally kind, yet, less gregarious individual.

On that particular Sunday morning, my youngest child was having a hard time. He didn’t want to attend his Sunday school class and “big church” seemed to be too much for him to handle, sitting still in a pew... So, my son and I found a sofa in the lobby of our church (I could still hear the service that was broadcast through overhead speakers). We proceeded to make paper-airplanes from our church bulletin... I know, some of you might think this is a sacrilege but honestly, sitting on a couch with your child who is struggling can sometimes be much more holy and sacred than an official church service.

Believe me, there was a good dose of prayer involved, too.

You see, my son struggles with anxiety. Big-time anxiety. Anxiety that can be crippling. Anxiety that takes attention and intention to navigate. He was not just being stubborn or moody or difficult or bull-headed. He was in a mental battle to traverse the mine-fields of his mind. Clinical anxiety rejects rationale. It rejects reason. Clinical anxiety’s sole intention is self preservation. Fight, flight or freeze. The limbic system of the brain reserves its power to preserve rather than perform. As benign as a Sunday School class may sound, it had the power to send my son into an anxiety attack.

So, when I say that I was praying that morning, you can believe it was an earnest prayer that I had prayed on many occasions, “Lord, be with my son. Help him to feel at peace. Help him to feel calm. Help him to know that he is safe. Help him to use his words to express his feelings…”

It is a slippery slope that he and I have had to navigate together. Honestly, when I really think about it, we have navigated anxiety of one sort or other his entire life. It, of course, looked different at two-years-old than it did at ten, but it has always been in the essence of who he is. Anxiety is a mean-spirited bed-fellow. It has stolen a lot from my son and our family, but it has also given us a rich perspective. It has given us an opportunity to problem-solve, find alternative solutions, be an example and talk to others about mental health.

I have always approached talking about my son’s anxiety in the same way I would talk about any other medical condition. Teachers, care-givers, family, friends; it is important that they know of his condition so that they can support him in the best way possible. If a person were diagnosed with diabetes or high blood pressure, they would go to the doctor and get prescribed medication to help these ailments. Why is it that mental health issues should be any different? It would be irresponsible for me to not share a physical health condition, so in the same vane, it would be irresponsible for me to not share a mental health condition… We have learned, through our journey, to talk about mental health the way one would talk about physical health.

Anyway, back to the couch in the church lobby.

My son and I were sitting there, making paper-airplanes when, my greeter-friend’s wife walked by. We made eye contact and smiled at one another. She introduced herself as Beverly and I introduced myself and my son.

“We’re having a rough morning,” I said to the woman, gesturing to my son. She smiled knowingly.

“Yes,” she said nodding, “I can’t tell you how many church services Glen or I spent on a bench in the lobby of our church when my kids were little. At least you have a comfortable seat.”

Then Beverly, very kindly and sincerely, told me that she had three children and one of her children did not enjoy Sunday morning at church. She, too, had spent countless mornings entertaining her own son with books and puzzles and whatever she had in her purse. “It was hard.” she said, “but looking back now, I think those were some pretty special times that the two of us had together. I was always frustrated with him when I had to leave the service, but now, it seems like God was giving us an opportunity to be together, just us two. He’s 27 now and his wife is expecting. It will be fun to see him with his own children.”

“How does he feel about Sunday mornings now?” I asked. She chuckled

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that he really enjoys church on Sundays now. He has grown up a lot and he feels like it's a pretty important part of his life. Some of the battles we fight as young people turn into victories when we are older and we have a better understanding.” Beverly kindly smiled at me and my son and excused herself to return to the sanctuary for the morning service.

I sat with her words resonating in my head. We fight battles when we are young and they turn into victories when we grow older.

The next week, I saw Glen and Beverly in the church lobby on Sunday morning. Beverly with a kind smile and Glen, as always, approached me. “Good morning,” He said, smiling, adding my name for familiarity. “How are you doing this morning?” But… This time it was different from all the other greetings on other Sundays. Glen had asked, “How are you doing?” The emphasis was on “you”. It was more personal. It was more genuine. It was not a run-of-the-mill greeting. He really wanted to know, genuinely, how I was doing. Beverly beamed over his shoulder.

“I’m doing really well, Glen, thank you for asking.”

Glen nodded and added, “You sure?” Human connection through a kind look.

“Yep,” I answered with a smile, “Every day a battle, every day a victory, right?” Glen and Beverly both beamed and nodded.

“Amen.” Glen said, “Enjoy your Sunday.”

“Thanks, you, too.” I added, navigating myself into the sanctuary.

What a wonderful example of empathy this lovely couple had shown me.

We are all in this together. “This” being life. “This” being navigating what it means to be a person and a community. We don’t have to invade one another’s lives to extend care and compassion. All it takes is genuine interest and genuine respect. Even if Beverly and Glen hadn’t traversed the same waters as me, I think they would have worked to find a common ground. It’s the type of people they are. People who care for people.

The paper-airplane morning happened about four years ago. My son still struggles with anxiety and it manifests itself in different ways now, but he doesn’t resist church the way he once did. He actually enjoys attending youth events. He has grown to be able to sit still through a church service with relatively little discomfort. The battle that was attending church four years ago was won. But there are always other battles to be fought.

*****

Why are mental health issues taboo? Why are those who struggle with anxiety and depression told to “just snap out of it”? Can one just snap out of being diabetic or having high blood-pressure or arthritis? No. Diabetes and high blood-pressure left unchecked is deadly. Untreated arthritis can mean constant pain and discomfort. Mental health left unchecked at best is painful and at worst is deadly. There should be no shame in making mental health a priority. I pray that we learn to treat it as such.

Taking care of your mental health is no joke. Millions of people suffer and there is help. If you would like to know more about resources for mental illness and mental health services, contact the National Alliance on Mental Illness at 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or nami.org/help.