"Cast All Your Cares on Him, For He Cares for You"

 Whew. Now we've hit the crash course years (though I'm sure other lessons from earlier years will pop up). 

Herald in Winter semester of 2012.

January of 2012 marked the beginning of my last semester of college. It was my student teaching semester. I had been warned that student teaching was often the most difficult for teaching majors. I went it to it with some trepidation, but without believing it was as hard as they said.

But it was--or at least, more difficult than anticipated.

Around March, I had fully taken over the classroom. I was lesson planning, prepping, grading papers, and getting evaluated. It was becoming overwhelming. I was starting to understand the warnings I had received. I kept telling myself I could do it. Then, the unthinkable happened. The boy I had been in love with for years (though I admit it was unrequited) started dating someone else. I was heartbroken— to the point that I was throwing up with anxiety and depression (an unfortunate response that happened every two weeks and lasted for several months).

To top it all off, I came down with a cold that left me feeling lethargic and unmotivated.

I remember sitting in my pajamas in my apartment on a Sunday evening, bawling and literally feeling like I couldn’t go on — that I wouldn’t survive another day. I called a friend to ask for a prayer and a blessing. It was good, and helped a little, but the intense anxiety and sorrow I was feeling still lingered heavily.

I crawled into my bed that night, and as I was crying and saying my nightly prayers, I remembered the lyrics to one of my favorite Christian songs (Jeremy Camp's "Healing Hand of God"): 

“Cast all your cares on Him for He cares for you.

He's near to the broken and confused

By His stripes our spirit is renewed

So enter in the joy prepared for you."

I remembered the verse of scripture it was based on, 1 Peter 5:7: "Casting all your cares on him; for he careth for you."

"If those words are true," I desperately pleaded, "Then take these burdens from me."

 I imagined “casting” my cares on him — giving Him all of my worries, fears, heartbreak, pain, etc, and imagined Him taking them. Immediately, I felt everything lift from my shoulders. I felt an astounding peace.

My problems didn’t magically go away — I still had to go in and student teach the next day, I still had a cold, and the boy I had fallen for wasn’t suddenly going to date me — but I felt I felt lighter. I knew I could go on, and that the Savior was with me.

God's Not A Hammer

A long time ago, I was an interview with my Dad. (He used to hold one-on-ones with each of his children). I remember feeling weighed down with all of my shortcomings, weaknesses, and the inappropriate intrusive thoughts resulting from OCD. Most the time I came into these interviews, I felt like a great sinner. I wasn't worthy of any of the blessings the came with the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and I was in need of sore repentance.

Thankfully, my father was inspired and change my perspective in two ways.

First, in one of these interviews, after confessing my thoughts, my dad simply asked,

"Do you want them?" I remember being taken aback, and then bursting into tears as I responded.

"I don't know. Maybe? Maybe that's why I can't get rid of them--because secretly I want them."

I'm so grateful for a wise father who shook his head and asked me, 

"K..., if Jesus were right here, offering to take them away, what would you say?"

Immediately I responded with passion,

"I would say, yes, please! Take them away!"

"Then you don't want them."

A simple yet profound perspective shift for me. Though I still struggled with feeling unworthy much of the time, I often remembered this conversation and was comforted by the reminder that I didn't want to think bad things or do bad things. I wanted to do what's right, and the Savior knew that. That's what mattered.

Second, in yet another interview, I was crying again about how I felt like I was messing up all the time (curse of being a perfectionist). I'm not sure exactly what I was saying, but I remember my dad looking at me almost with exasperation and saying,

"K...God is not a hammer waiting to smash you."

Well, obviously, I thought. I had been taught all my life that God was a loving Father in Heaven and that He was infinitely merciful. But as I pondered my dad's slight chastisement, I started to realize that though I knew it in my mind, I wasn't living like I believed it. I was living more as though I viewed God like the image in my textbook for the essay by Jonathan Edwards entitled, "Sinners in the Hands of An Angry God." In the image, God's hand was depicted as a dark shadow, holding the silhouette of a poor soul over a boiling pot. 

And suddenly, my perspective shifted again. I started trying to see God more as the way I had been taught--as kind, loving, and merciful--pleased with every effort we make and understanding that we aren't perfect. After all, that's why He sent His Son--not to condemn the world but to save it (John 3:17).

This lesson has stuck with me, and I remember being powerfully reminded of it later in college when I came across the song, "More than you think I am" By Danny Gokey. I immediately sent it to my dad and told him that this reminded me of the lesson he had taught me in that interview.

Here I'll post just the second verse and the chorus, but the links to the song will be posted on my Music page (Lyrics courtesy of Google).

Rumor has it there's a gavel in my hand

I'm only here to condemn

But let me tell you secrets you would've never known

I think of you as my best friend

So much has been said

Even doubted my name

But I'm showing you now

Who I really am

I'm more than you dreamed

More than you understand

Your days and your times

Were destined for our dance

I catch all your tears

Burn your name on my heart

Be still and trust my plan

I'm more than you think I am (am, am, oh)

More than you think I am (am, am, oh)