In high school, I experienced my first battle with anxiety attacks. I didn’t understand what was happening or why it was happening — all I knew was that I was not in control and I desperately needed God’s help.
So I began to pray, no, beg, for deliverance. I remember staring at the floor of our church sanctuary as I cried out to my Savior on my knees: God I need you. I give my life to you. Please answer me. Please take all of this away.
Nothing.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into a full year. And still, nothing but silence.
I felt like a shipwrecked soul, sinking in a sea of confusion, sadness, anger and bitterness.
And that’s when I found Psalm 13.
As one of David’s shorter psalms, you might miss it if you were flipping through your Bible, but in those days, and even still today, I can’t take my eyes from it. David writes:
1 How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
4 and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing the Lord’s praise,[written by Lauren Gaskill]
for he has been good to me.
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