It hurts when you grow up being told that you are deeply loved by someone whose love you have never felt before. You were told that this person loved you from the inside out, and that they would never stop loving you no matter what may happen. Unfortunately these lies that my God did not love me were molded into my brain and used against me. 

It’s hard struggling with anxiety and not feeling the love or help from your God. Anxiety attack after anxiety attack and yet no word or answered prayers from the person who supposedly cares about you so much. Personally, for me to know that God exists and loves me deeply, I need to see it for myself. I need to physically witness it. Whether that’s an image or an experience He gives me, I need to see it with my own eyes. It’s frustrating for me to believe things when there is no physical proof. With this said, I yearned for God to show me that He cared. I needed proof of Him so much that it began to hurt. 

I began asking God to show Himself to me. I prayed everyday, but still... nothing. Days, months, and years went by with no sign of God. During this time, my anxiety had gotten worse and out of my control. I needed God to help me, but why, when things started to get bad, did He seem to disappear? What was He thinking? Didn’t He care? I did not understand why this was happening at this time, but looking back, I know that God knew what He was doing. His plan was just the beginning of something extraordinary. It wasn’t until a year and a half ago that God sent a sign of his existence, showing He was in control and loved me very much. 

I don’t remember the day, or what exactly had happened. All that I remember is the vision that He gave me. I was swimming in the middle of a dark, unfamiliar ocean. Surrounded by towering waves, I started to cough up salty sea water as my head was pushed under every few seconds. I started to get weaker and weaker, drowning in treacherous waters that continuously sucked me beneath its surface like a black hole. This was by far the biggest storm I have ever witnessed, and I knew that I could not escape its grasp. What I didn’t know was that I was about to be rescued. My God appeared out of thin air, reaching down from the heavens with His mighty hand. It was much larger than the storm I was in, and was the hand of a carpenter: strong, but that of a father. My head went under once more. My body started to freeze up, making me sink deep beneath the ocean's surface. My lungs felt as if they were on fire, and I fought against the urge to let the storm inside of me. As I sank deeper and deeper into the dark blue underworld, I kept my eyes fixed on the one thing that stayed constant. The hand that was above the water, reached down into the storm and past all of my fears and troubles, heading straight towards me. It broke through the black sea and lifted me out of my anxiety. I layed on His hand coughing up water that I let inside of me. I was saved. He rescued me when the ocean around me rose and I thought I would be sucked into its depths. He is my rescuer, my saviour, my Father, my everlasting God.