Call Me Crazy

I didn’t throw away my television, but I ended all subscriptions. The TV became a hollow box that only mirrored my reflection. I also tossed any movies, pictures, and magazines that I had once enjoyed.

I completely purged myself of anything I once idolized. It wasn’t easy, but Ashley was more than willing to help. We placed everything into the dumpster. I even watched the truck haul my possessions away after sunset.

I quietly sat in an empty house that was void of anything that could displease the Lord. To be honest, there was a burden or weight that had been taken off my shoulders. I felt lighter somehow—even clean. I didn’t miss my earthly treasures. Jesus had done another miracle in my life, but unfortunately my anxieties and fears were still present.

I wasn’t anxious in that moment—just aware that anxiety still lived somewhere inside me. Yes, I was disappointed that I had not received my healing; even though I had given everything to Christ.

In some cases, Jesus doesn’t work the way we think He will. Our actions will not always elicit the response we’re searching for. Sacrifice may not equal mental healing. “Maybe I could start taking medication,” I whispered. No—I still wanted the ultimate Physician to heal me.

I went into my room and turned on the worship music. I wasn’t necessarily searching for healing, but I wanted to spend time with Jesus. Maybe even complain about my anxieties a bit.

I laid across the floor face‑down and began to pray. I moved from one subject to the next. I complained, repented, and sang until I began to tire. I sat in His presence for hours—until the atmosphere suddenly began shifting into something I never expected.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me, and know my anxieties.”

Psalms 139:23