The Aftershock is Worse than the Earthquake

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope; the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great it’s your faithfulness. — Lamentations 3:21-23

The days after my panic attack last week felt like the aftershock of an earthquake. The debilitating exhaustion from every nerve ending in my body being activated -- as the toxic cortisol that had been real eased into my system flushed from my veins and returned to the depths from which it came -- felt worse than the panic itself. Maybe this sounds melodramatic, but I wondered if I would ever feel whole and well again. I returned to work for a day, but just went through the motions and left early. I took the rest of the week off because I just couldn’t get into the right mind/body/spirit (as if these things aren’t impossibly and inseparably intertwined) to be present in the way my work requires. No one wants/needs a chaplain who is phoning it in — someone just trying to fill his lungs with another breath and stay awake — to care for them in crisis. At least, I assume this is true. Regardless, I took the next few days off to rest and recover and rediscover myself. I’m in a much better place now. I spent the weekend with friends, playing music and sharing stories… talking openly about grief and loss and struggle and God’s presence amid it all. 

It would be easy to just move on, I’m doing better after all. But today it felt right to return to Lamentations. It feels right to lament and reflect on the all-consuming panic of last Friday night and the debilitating grief of the days following and I continue on the journey of healing. Without lament, it can be easy to only identify and associate God’s presence with the wholeness and goodness I feel as I write this, even on this dull, gray, Fort Wayne morning. But if there is anything true in what the writer of Lamentations proclaims… “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases” then God’s same holy, loving presence was not absent in my time of panic and/or the sense of despair that followed. The love of God is steadfast, whether or not I’m aware of it at the moment. The loving presence of God sustained me and sustains me. It is ongoing and ever-present. 

God, may I become increasingly awake to and aware of your never ending love and mercy as they are made new today. May I call this to mind and embrace hope.