Five years ago, I was the girl who claimed she didn't have a testimony. Really. That's kind of like saying "never" to God -- I’ve done that, too. :) But since then, He has given me a testimony -- to share, and to bring glory to Him. He makes that so easy to do.
If you know us, then you probably know how this all happened... this whole Africa thing. We got plugged into an amazing church, figured out how good He is, got out of debt, went on two Global Project Teams to Swaziland, and figured out there's a big world out there -- that He really desired us to experience. And so, here we are. Twenty-two months of living in Africa. Awesome.
But, there was a time, a darker time, right around that “non-testimony” time, that I felt as if my whole world crashing down. I was a mom of three under thirty-nine months, all in diapers. Beautiful babies. But a crazy time. I felt like I was "losing it"... like my life was spinning out of control. Everything was a weight, and many times I'd sit in the living room in our oversized chair, rock back and forth, head in my hands, and just cry. Something had happened, and I was no longer equipped to be a good mom. It was all too much.
At that same time, God had put some incredible women in my life, whom I loved and respected, and they really breathed life into me -- at a time I really needed it. They took my hand, and pulled me out. I remember one of them saying, "Krista... you've had added three babies, in a short period of time, but what have you given up?" I received this. My OCD was running me ragged, and yet I was raking the carpet on the stairway with my nails more than ever (you know, to give it that freshly-vacuumed look), and straightening those fringes on the kitchen throws, too. Tears stream down my face just thinking about it now. It was a really tough time. An ugly time. A time that I hid from a lot of people. A time in my life that I wanted everyone to think was "perfect." Ick.
One afternoon, one of these incredible women, placed in my life no doubt by God, insisted I drop the kiddies at her house while I see our doctor, and suggested I fill out an anxiety assessment. In the the doctor's office, with the assessment completed, my doctor looked and me and said, "Wow, you're off the charts." Seriously. Absolutely no depression (which I already knew), but at that point, I obviously wasn't equipped to carry the weight of the anxiety. Later that afternoon, Steph and I met for a quick dinner date before picking up the kids, and we talked about the options for treatment. I chose, with Steph's blessing, to start a medication, and also begin counseling. I really didn't see one without the other.
Ahhhh... the meds were wonderful. A gift from God. They helped level me off. They made life beautiful! I could feel things roll off my shoulders like never before. I was a better mommy, instead of feeling suffocated by each and every little thing. I loved my family more. I loved life more. It was so good.
At that time, in the spring of 2007, I was completely comfy with the meds. And thankful. Within a few months, I attended Women of Faith with my next-door neighbor and friend. We listened as Sheila Walsh spoke about her experience with anxiety -- and yet each and every morning she took that little pill with a "prayer of thanksgiving." She intended to take her meds for life. It seemed good to me. After all, a pill with no side effects that better equipped me? And, a pill that grew my testimony? Done. :)
Fast forward to February 2011 -- our move to Swaziland, Africa. My meds were available here, which I knew, but TIA (this is Africa). One can't imagine how difficult it is to get meds here... until one does it. I could grab easily them over the counter (no prescription needed), but they would run over 20USD for a month's supply. Because we have insurance and we're a pretty healthy family, I figured we should cash in on the insurance for something! But, come along with me, if you would, while I describe what this med-grabbing process is like.
-We travel to the clinic, wait in line while they locate my information, process my paperwork (while they answer phones, talk to other people, ask if I'm related to King Mswati III because of my surname, ask why the kids aren't in school, ask if my hair is real, etc.), and then instruct me to have a seat until the doctor is ready to see me. Each and every month, I see a doctor in order to get an updated script.
-Once I have the script, we walk to the back of the building, winding around corridors to the "chemist" (pharmacy). I turn in the paperwork, and again have a seat. We wait anywhere from 10-30 minutes while they fill it. I receive anywhere from 0-21 tablets. Sometimes they're "out" and the order didn't come in, and other times the chemist will tell me that there is a cap to what I can be dispensed. The scenerio changes with every month. And so, we leave. And if all goes well, I have meds with me.
This is at least an hour process each and every time we visit the clinic. I've quickly gotten used to it. TIA. It’s frustrating, but this is Africa. Everything takes longer in Africa.
Yet, through the twenty-two months that we've lived in Swaziland, I've always wondered if there would come a time that God would make it very apparent to me that these meds weren't needed. I've been anticipating this. Remember, I'm the "crazy" girl that, with her family, sold everything and moved to Africa... with a bunch of suitcases. If I can lean on Him to take us to Africa, can't I lean on Him to be my ALL... my supply... my every need? I've never wanted to take God out of the equation. I know His power.
Last Friday, I reached the end of my meds, and the last thing I felt like doing was standing in line and jumping through hoops to refill them. It's certainly not like me to go without them, but I had this complete sense of peace... like I have never had before. I went the weekend without them. However on Monday, I visited the clinic again, and actually conversed with the doctor about weaning off the meds, just entertaining the thought a bit, after the holidays, of course.
I got the script, but with the script in my hand, I prayed and asked for confirmation from Him. That if HE was going to be bigger than the meds, larger than the anxiety, I needed Him to speak to me. To be transparent, I needed Him to show up. This "weaning" thing just wasn't going to be ideal -- the timing wasn’t perfect. After the Christmas parties, hosting the 30-member River Valley team, and the holidays, we will pick back up with Children's Cup operations in 2013, host a team of 32 to launch the River Valley-Swaziland campus in February, travel back to the States for 6-8 weeks in March, and then rush back to host teams and resume life in Swaziland. I quickly figured out that there was no perfect time to do this... but NOW. Granted, the weaning plan is really the most ideal (you can google as I have), and "cold turkey" isn't recommended. I get that. But I serve a God who is bigger than all of this.
It's been a week... and I feel truly awesome. I feel clearer and more lucid than I have in a very long time. “Operation Cold Turkey," if you will, has been amazing. Hear me out -- I'm not recommending this for anyone to try, especially if you’re someone like me who was at 40mg/day, and I realize I'm only a week into this (or out of this). I'm confident that if you're reading this and are a physician you're cringing, but I want to shout it from the rooftops that He is bigger... He is stronger... and stuff like this can happen. We see it all of the time in Africa. Healing is REAL.
I love meds. I love that God has placed doctors on this earth to prescribe them. Meds are a great thing. But, in my life, I love that He is no longer taken out of the equation -- because I was leaning on my meds more than I was leaning on Him. Yes, the kids are older. Yes, I believe that I am at a place of being better equipped to deal with these anxieties, and really -- I'm a completely different person. A recovering princess. But, above all, He did this. All glory and honor is His.
Mark 2:10 And the man jumped up, grabbed his mat, and walked out through the stunned onlookers. They were amazed and praised God, exclaiming, "We've never seen anything like this before."
I feel like the guy with the mat -- with a huge testimony. Thank you, God.