There Is An Intruder

There is this tree right outside my house. 

It's so close that Its branches actually touch the front window of the house. 

When it's windy, it beats against the window. 

It actually can be pretty loud if a strong enough gust comes through. 

And to be honest, I actually find a lot of comfort in that sound. 

Not because it's pleasing to my ears, or the rhythm of the beating against the window has a nice melody. But because that tree is my go to when chalking up a sound I hear in the house. 

Honestly noises that don't even make sense to be attributed to that tree, I sometimes do anyway.

It's convenient.

When I'm home alone and I hear a moving sound? it's the tree. When I hear a scratch, I think to myself, “it's just the branches”. 

And although the comfort I find in blaming the tree feels good at the moment, I can't help but think, what if there was an intruder in my home? What if those moving sounds were actually someone who had broken into my home and was trying to hurt me? 


I think this is what I've done with my mind. 

I had a doctor tell me I had anxiety one time. 

I was 9. 

I didn't think much about it until I got older. 

And Life got a little more stressful. 


I got older and I started to get really sweaty hands.

My heart was beating really fast. 

And my stomach felt sick. 


My body. My home. 

There were noises. 

Lots of them.


It was just anxiety. 

It was just the tree. 


I began a pattern. 

Everything was anxiety. 

Eating disorder? Anxiety. 

Can't leave the house? Anxiety. 

Overwhelmed? Anxiety. 

And maybe it was. 

Or is. 


But I think that there might be an intruder in my body. 

Someone out to hurt me. 

He broke in, and is rummaging around. 

He is stealing things. 

He is destroying things. 

And He wants to kill me. 


I think that that doctor might have been right. 

Maybe. 

But I also think that sometimes, I have to listen carefully to the sounds my mind makes. To think about things my body does. 

Cause yeah, anxiety is real. 

I know that. 

But that doesn't mean that there aren't other reasons why things are the way they are. 


I have an enemy. 

And to be honest, I think he wears a mask in the shape of anxiety. 

I think he is trying to take me down quietly in the name of “i'm too anxious”. 


I know the tactics of the intruder.

He wants to kill, steal, and destroy.

But I've also heard of the promise of my Father.

He told me that He wants to give me a life of freedom.


I think it's time I cut down that tree outside. 

Cause if there is an intruder, I’m calling my Dad. 


And I think it's time to rebuke anxiety. 

Cause if there is an intruder in my mind, I’m calling Abba.

And He told me that He has a really good life for me.

I want that.

A life marked by Him. 

Not anxiety.


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