I never really talk about my faith on here, I guess just because my beliefs and relationship with God is very personal to me. I don’t share that much because I don’t want to debate religion with anyone, that’s not what I ever intended for this blog. I do however think you should be aware of what I believe, and how important the lord is in my life. I’m not going to go deep into detail, mainly because I’m not the best with words, but I thought telling you a quick (who really tells quick stories?) story wouldn’t hurt.
when I was nine I went to visit my aunt in new york, on the first night there I was woken by my mom telling me that I wasn’t breathing (not the best way to wake up, I’ll tell you that), I suffered from asthma, but it was nothing we didn’t know how to handle, well up until this night at least. and she was right, I wasn’t breathing. I tried to take my inhaler but there was no use, “call an ambulance!” my mom yelled to my aunt as she was carrying me down the stairs and outside to get some fresh air (the air in brooklyn isn’t the most fresh thing you’ve ever inhaled into your lungs, but it was as good as we could get), sometimes that helped when I was having an attack. I remember being able to breathe out, but not back in, obviously I was getting some oxygen because I was still conscious, but you could have fooled me. getting into the ambulance was the last thing I can remember from that night. when I woke up the next morning the doctor sat me down and told me I had a severe asthma attack and that I was lucky my mom noticed my wheezing when she did or things could have been a lot worse. he also informed me that I was “allergic to new york..” alright, didn’t know that was possible, I thought you were supposed to be a doctor. that following day my mom and I flew home so I could get better in the comfort of my own home, but ever since that night, I was scared to fall asleep, fearing that I would quit breathing again in the middle of the night. I was assured by multiple people that it was just a fluke thing and wouldn’t happen again, that we were more aware now and it’s perfectly safe to go to sleep. still that fear hit me (like a brick) instantly every moment I got into bed.. for the next five years. seems a little silly, but that panic was there to stay. I tried therapists, medication, counseling, I made my parents sleep out on the couch with me (if my mom noticed my lack of breathing once, she would again, right?), I used breathing techniques, I used gadgets that checked my air ways to assure me that I was breathing perfectly fine, and yet I still suffered from the anxiety. it got better as I matured, and I had so much support from my family, but there was still a part of me that was nervous to fall asleep. then one day I asked myself why I really didn’t put my full trust in God (everyone told me I should be), why didn’t I try and let him overcome this battle with me, why didn’t I let myself rest in his presence? once I started doing that, my fears instantly started going away, whenever I felt uneasy, I would cast that feeling unto the lord, literally. I would close my eyes and envision myself throwing something into a basket at his feet, I would tell him my worry or my pain and ask him to please take it away and in return give me peace. he did exactly that. I was able to sleep through the night, and have comfort in knowing that God is watching over me, and that his will is being done in my life. if I were to stop breathing, I have no power over it, so I shouldn’t let myself (or my family) lose sleep over something I cannot control. from that moment on, I really started putting my trust in God. even through the hard times and the really (really, really, reeeeally) hard times, he has never given me a reason not to rely solely on him. I know I can count on him, even when I can’t count on anyone else. he is my savior forever. he is the king of all kings, and I am his (princess) daughter.