BBC pause: Anxiety, Fear and the Holy Spirit

I feel the need to explain a little more thoroughly about the role that my religious beliefs played in Runaway Bride, Parts I and II.

You already know that I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder about a year before our wedding. It was a huge step for me to recognize that most of the time, what I was feeling was anxiety based in physiology and not much else.

Many types of modern Christian thinking put a lot of emphasis on "experiencing God" -- letting spirituality touch our emotions. That's not a bad thing. I've had some beautiful sprititual-emotional experiences.

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But too often, even after my diagnosis, I've let my tendency toward anxiety and emotions overtake my more rational side. At times, I've wrongly believed what I was feeling was what some Christians would call "the leading of the Holy Spirit," when in fact, what was going on was nothing more than wishful thinking or just plain old cold feet.

I don't believe that the pastor's message on Father's Day Sunday and Mr. Bunny's absence from church was a sign from God that we weren't meant to be together. It just was an incident that reinforced one of the fears I had about our relationship. I gave that fear too much power -- so much that I believed it was from God.

This quote from the book Julie of the Wolves has stuck with me through the years, and I've given it far too much weight in my life:

"When fear seizes, change what you are doing. You are doing something wrong.”

I disagree. Feeling afraid doesn't necessarily mean you are doing something wrong. Feeling afraid means you are feeling afraid. Running from whatever it is you are afraid of isn't necessarily the answer. Sometimes, the solution instead is to drain fear of its power by acknowledging it, confronting it head on, and analyzing it.

Talking to Mr. Bunny, hearing his response to my concerns, seeing how sensitive he was to me -- these things were all enough to calm my heart and helped me know that Mr. B would be a willing partner as we worked on our relationship with God and with each other in the coming years.

There's not much more I can say on the subject. It all comes down to your personal beliefs about God and psychology. I can only tell you my own experience and let you know that not once since Mr. Bunny and I got married have I questioned whether I made the right choice. I love him more and more every day, and I'm convinced that I'm right in the center of where God wants me to be.

BBC: Runaway Bride, Part II (14 days)

(Read Part I)

This two-part post is called Runaway Bride, but at this point in the story, I looked more like this

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than like this.

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I was standing in Mr. Bunny's living room with tears streaming down my face, ready to break up with him.

I'd practiced my speech, but I was unable to say anything. All I could do was cry and hold out the engagement ring.

He sat up, confused. He was, as I recall, gentle.

"What's wrong, honey? Tell me what's wrong?"

He wouldn't take the ring. He tried to make me put it back on, but I wouldn't. I set it on the coffee table.

Together, we went outside and sat on his front porch. At some point, I wrested control of my emotions enough to explain the story.

Mr. B sat silently and listened to my tale -- how I sat in church waiting and waiting for him as the pastor preached about being a man of God ... and he wasn't there to stand up.

As I spoke, I saw Mr. Bunny's face soften.

"I'm sorry, hon. I can only imagine how that must have felt. To be waiting for me while the pastor said those things. And I was at home asleep."

He said he wanted to be that man standing up at the front of the church. And that he'd gone to bed early so that he would wake up in time to meet me, only he didn't wake up. I could see that he felt awful about what happened

It wasn't enough, of course, for him to say that. I kissed him and told him I loved him, but I wouldn't put that ring back on. Not yet.

I didn't want to face the questions from friends and family, so together we made a plan that we'd say he needed to take my engagement ring to be engraved (that actually was our original plan, since my wedding band is 3/4 open work). Instead, I wore my wedding band while Mr. Bunny and I talked and prayed about whether getting married was the right thing to do. I'm so sorry I lied to you, hive, but at the time, I couldn't live up to what was really going on.

Four days later he got down on one knee (for the first time, by the way ;) ) and asked again. And I said yes ... again.

I'd remembered what it was that drew me to Mr. B in the first place -- not that he was the perfect man that I always thought I would marry, but that he longs to be that man. He's a person who loves me, and who wants to walk through life with me, striving together to be the people that God wants us BOTH to be.

Because in spite of all the tears, all the indecision, all the times he thought I was going to cut off contact with him for good, Mr. Bunny never stopped loving me in all the best ways. He was never mean, never impatient, never once raised his voice at me, or told me I was being ridiculous, or acted angry for keeping him in limbo. I knew he was the right man because of these things, not because he shows up for church on Sundays.

And that's why I married Mr. B. He is the perfect husband for me, and I will kick your booty if you try to tell me otherwise. ;)

photo by Julian Allen

Previously, on the Bunny Bridal Countdown:

The Showers (30+ days)
Dress disaster (28 days)
Dress decision (25 days)
Bunny goes Playboy (23 days)
Cake-speriments, Part I (23 days)
Cake-speriments, Part II
Hoppin’ to my hairdo
The part where everything went wrong
Runaway Bride, Part I

BBC: Runaway Bride, Part I (14 days)

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This was me, two weeks before my wedding day.

Ok, so remember way back when I was still a new blogger here, before I got married?

I wrote this big, long post about how Mr. Bunny and I were fantastic together, even though I was very doubtful of our relationship at times. And how it was mostly about me and my anxiety disorder, not about Mr. Bunny.

Well, I have a confession.

*ahem*

Two days after I wrote that post -- the one that so many of you thanked me for writing -- I drove over to Mr. B's apartment, stood before him in tears, and handed back my engagement ring.

Here's the story:

We went our separate ways on Saturday night, saying we'd meet up for church the next morning, Father's Day. That morning, I was in church. Mr. Bunny was not. The sermon, it turned out, was about being a man of God, the one quality I most wanted in a husband. At the end, the pastor called for the men in the congregation who wanted to be better husbands and fathers to come forward for prayer.

I sat motionless, refusing to turn my head, praying that my fiance had slipped into the sanctuary a few minutes later than I. I wanted to see him come forward and ask for prayer. I was looking for a confirmation that Mr. B was indeed "Mr. Right" -- the man God had for me.

This might sound stupid to those of you who aren't spiritual or religious, but I firmly believed in that moment that if he didn't come forward, it was a sign that we weren't meant to be together. That we never should have been.

He never came forward.

I cried the whole way to his apartment, steeling myself for what was to come. I prepared myself for his tears, for begging. I readied my explanation for why I was breaking up with him -- for real this time.

And then I was there, standing over him, holding out the ring with tears streaming down my face.

He was asleep on his living room sofa while my heart was breaking. I had to say his name loudly to wake him.

And then he opened his eyes and sat up, and I prepared to launch into the most difficult speech I think I'll ever give in my life.

To be continued ...

Previously, on the Bunny Bridal Countdown:

The Showers (30+ days)
Dress disaster (28 days)
Dress decision (25 days)
Bunny goes Playboy (23 days)
Cake-speriments, Part I (23 days)
Cake-speriments, Part II
Hoppin' to my hairdo
The part where everything went wrong