Spiritual Hypochondria

Photo Credit: neadeau

"But to you who fear My name the Sun of Righteousness shall arise 
with healing in His wings. . ." Mal. 4:2 

The difference between spiritual health and spiritual hypochondria is all in how you view spiritual reality.

In my work on the alternative side of holistic medicine, I often see patients suffering from a series of vague symptoms they have put together into a major, if usually obscure, illness. They often have thick folders full of printouts from the Internet describing various diseases, with stars by the symptoms they perceive in themselves.  While such patients can have a health complaint that is simply not taken seriously by their doctors, sometimes the problem is actually hypochondria--an obsessive belief that they have an illness or illnesses.

Hypochondriacs can lead miserable lives.  They lay awake at night monitoring their body for new symptoms, scour web sites for information on their problem, and badger their health care providers with demands for test after test in an attempt to diagnose the illness (or illnesses) from which they are certain they suffer.  Some alienate family members, lose jobs, and end marriages because finding the source of their illness devours their life.  Often, their "symptoms" are not even terribly severe, which makes it all the more painful to watch them batter themselves with invasive tests, and waste money and precious days obsessing on their health. 

Unfortunately, hypocondriacs simply take to an extreme what we are all told to do by our doctors--get regular screenings for illnesses, and check out any chronic symptom, even if it seems mild. Since everyone knows or has heard of someone whose occasional acid reflux was actually a severe heart problem, or whose mild headaches end up as the first symptoms of a brain tumor, convincing a hypochondriac that they are not sick is difficult. In the end, logical arguments are not the way to help someone who cannot clearly perceive objective information--they must be convinced the problem is their view of reality, not the symptoms they so carefully chart.

When I treat a hypochondriac patient, I try to gently urge them to seek counseling, and encourage them to focus on what is working properly in their body rather than on the negative symptoms they perceive.  Sometimes this approach works, and they find a good therapist who can help them see how distorted their view of health has become, and work on seeing their life more clearly. Often they move on to another practitioner more likely to buy into their worldview.

These days, I sometimes wonder if I have spiritual hypochondria.  I will often agonize over perceived faults and sins, beating myself up over failings I believe should have been solved long ago.  I read self-help information, and torment myself analyzing my every thought for anything that wanders from perfection.  This constant vigilance leaves me discouraged and anxious over my own imperfections. Like Paul, I often feel like wailing "O wretched [woman] that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?" (Rom. 7:24)

Like the physical hypochondriac, on the surface I am only doing what I should.  Concern about sin, even supposed small sins, is not misplaced.  Few people reading this have committed murder, but all of us have despised someone, even if only for a few seconds.  Not many people rob banks, but who has not coveted the pretty things that belong to someone else? Any small sin can keep us from salvation. Paul tells us to examine ourselves, David and others tell us to search our heart, and Jesus Himself warns us our every attitude, thought, and word will be eligible for judgement.  I've never understood how a Christian can live in such a microscope, being ordered to be perfect, and experience  the "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding" (Phil. 4:7). I just have anxiety attacks and shame. 

I finally see now that my problem is not primarily my sin, but my view of spiritual reality.  Once a person begins the process of repentance by renouncing their prerogative to make their own choices about right and wrong, and accepts Christ's sacrifice for their sin, their focus should be on their spiritual health.  We should do our spiritual screenings--we should analyze our thoughts, work on our faults, and watch our words (1 Cor.11:28).   But rather than work ourself into a frazzled mess, we should be asking God to search us and know us, as David says (Ps. 139:23). 

Rather than be ashamed of our sin, we should bring it to God, ask for His forgiveness, trusting Him to make us spiritually healthy (1 Jn.1:9). Once we pledge our lives to God, we are essentially healthy. Untreated, any sin can lead to death.  But God has granted us a way to have perfect spiritual health by growing with Him over our lifetime. As with physical hypochondria, the real problem is the belief that our condition is much worse than our Doctor believes, and our need to control the progress of our spiritual life.  God is the only source of spiritual clarity. He alone can heal us and "restore. . . the joy of [His] salvation" (Ps. 51:12). 

Honesty With God

Photo from sxc.hu

My pastor, Todd, has one of the most real and warm relationships with God that I have ever seen. For Him, God is not "just" the Creator of the Universe, the Maker of Mankind, the Giver of Law and Grace and Mercy--He's Dad.  Todd's language is full of references to Dad being happy when His kids are happy, proud when His kids do well, hurting when His kids suffer, and how eager Dad and our Big Brother Jesus are to see us in The Family Business, the Kingdom of God.

Being in Todd's congregation has been really good for me. I know in my mind that God is love, God is merciful, God loves us, and me specifically. But I still have a deep-seated view of God as someone to cower before rather than someone to protect me from the monster in the closet.

We learn about God through our own family experiences. My father loved me dearly, but we were never close in my memory. He died when I was a teen, so I never got to interact with him as an adult. My mother and I were as close to estranged as you can get and live under the same roof, and she died six years after my father. Missing out on close relationships with my family not only left me lonely, but severely affected my relationship with God. Family was rarely a place to have fun, so my prayers and thoughts about God were usually very serious. I never felt safe revealing weaknesses, so until recently I spent most of time in prayer explaining to God why I was doing the best I could and listing extenuating circumstances for the things in my life that were wrong. I rarely asked for help, and then did it without much hope I would be answered--not because I didn't believe in God, but because I assumed He was disappointed in me when I messed up.

Recently I have begun to rethink these positions. Todd's frequent references to God's longing to hug us and welcome us into His Kingdom have me testing the waters. Sometimes now I start my prayer with "Dad" in the place of the formal "Heavenly Father." I've begun to open up about my failings. "Dad, I yelled at someone in traffic today. By the time I thought about it being wrong, it was too late. I'm sorry. I don't know how to change it."

"Dad, I've got a big business decision to make. Here's what I want to do. What do you think?"

"Dad, I miss my family, and I really miss the closeness I wanted and long for that feeling of being safe and warm in a group. Please show me how to have that."

I've also tried to get better at praising and thanking. My thanks are sometimes more obsequious than humble. I wonder if God feels like some Eastern emperor whose subjects feel bound by protocol to say rote, overwrought, flowery praises. The words may be correct, but in the past my thanks and praise had a "thank you for this--you're amazing and great--please don't hurt me" quality. If you have ever had a child or animal cower in front of you because they have been hurt in the past, you know that this kind of communication does not make you feel warm and fuzzy--it just makes you sad. 

So I've tried to be better. "Father, what an neat color You made the sky today--I really like the purple around the edges." 

"Dad, thank You for letting my find that $5 bill when I cleaned out the closet. It made me enjoy the cleaning a lot more!"

"I'm so amazed that You came up with tomatoes. They're the perfect food!"

Once I started trying to be really honest and open and vulnerable with God, I found more things to talk about. And I learned to feel safe.

"Dad, You know Your children suffer with sickness. Please heal them. Please help me to understand if You do not heal them right away, and especially help them to understand. Please show me if there is anything I could be doing to help them."

"Father, I know that You are letting the world have free will, and that bad things happen when men take it on themselves to decide right from wrong. But they feel so lost. How do You stand knowing about every child that is hurting? Do You cry? Why don't you stop it now?"

One of my fundamental beliefs is God is in charge. He is in control, and has the right to make whatever decisions He wishes, because He wants the ultimate best for us. One day Jesus will bring His Kingdom to this earth, and pain and war and sin will be eradicated from the world, leaving only peace and joy and happiness. I never knew what to do with the emotion of doubt. How to handle the injustices  on earth and the desire to stop them, and feeling sometimes that God wasn't fair to allow them. Now I always try to take those concerns to God, just as I would take concerns with close friends to them instead of stewing in my discontent or talking about them behind their back. God knows my thoughts, and He loves me. Talking to Him about the things I don't understand is the best way to come to peace and understanding.

"Dad, I want children to stop being hungry. I want animals to stop being abused. I want people of all colors to get along. I want you to step in and make it happen. But I know you don't always--at least not right now. I believe you will someday. Please help me to be the example of your way, and when you give me the chance to act as your agent to do some of these good things. But please also give me the faith to trust that You see what I see, and more. Remind me that suffering makes you more upset than it does me, because you love human beings more than I ever could. Give me faith in your timing and your justice."

Since I began focusing on being honest with God, I have felt much of my anxiety about life melt away. I no longer feel I'm hiding my faults from God, but bringing them to Him. Like a trusted friend or mentor, I know He will see the sin, love me, and show me how to improve so that I can be more happy and can share His love more fully with others.