Saturday 25 February 2017

Satan comes for me on Saturdays.

Satan gets at me on Saturday. 
Around mid-afternoon I will get a text or a notification that will remind me that it's Saturday which means church is tomorrow. It's not that I forget, it's more that it isn't necessarily on my mind as I walk along the beach or look for photo frames in overcrowded shops. Anyway, every week this happens, sometimes it's to remind me to bring something for YWs or to ask if I need a ride and other times it's our RS president posting an uplifting quote on our Facebook page - it doesn't matter what it is really because that little reminder starts a game with Satan that I'm not sure I always win. 
One of the first things that will come up is that I'm too tired. Sometimes I genuinely am too ill or tired to make it to church but there's plenty of times when I'm actually not. Of course, I'm always tired thanks to my health problems but I'm rarely too tired to sit down for three hours, ya know? The adversary will tell me I am, it will whisper that I don't have the energy and that the little energy I do have would be better used somewhere else. It will tell me to stay in bed, have a lie in because I woke up early today or because I didn't sleep well Friday night. It's so easy to agree, who doesn't relish the idea of a lovely warm lie in with breakfast in bed and a leisurely shower? None of that would actually happen but Satan tells me that this time it will if I just stay in bed instead. Thrown in with this one is the thought that I'm too sick, I'm too unhealthy and ill to possibly go, I should just lay in my bed like a Victorian lady with a touch of the vapours all day. This one doesn't get me as much, it's been around for too long for me to listen much anymore. 
Next up will be the murmurs of my inequity. These ones are easy bait, it's not hard to make me feel unworthy or inferior and the adversary knows that. He'll tell me that I'm not good enough to be there, I don't deserve the atonement or the blessings because I messed up too much and didn't read my scriptures enough. That nobody really likes me and I'm just a burden on them, that it's easier for them to not have me there at all. It's a similar feeling to not wanting to go to school when you haven't done your homework and you just know the teacher is going to ask you about it in front of everyone and you're not going to know the answer. Like I said, this ones easy for the adversary and it's probably the most prevalent part of this Saturday game. 
Later that afternoon will come the urge to text ahead to say I'm not coming, to make up some reason as to why I can't be there. I've never given in to lying but I'm sure I've exaggerated just how ill I feel once or twice because it's even easier for the adversary to keep you away from church when you're already feeling rough. Hey, I admitted that I don't always win. My absences have been minimal in reality, and 90% of those have been for totally legitimate health or travel reasons. 
By the evening time I'm well and truly stressed out from the inner turmoil between wanting to be there and feeling like I can't. Having two anxiety disorders makes this harder too, panic attacks aren't uncommon at this stage thanks to the PAD and I'm usually ready to quit the whole thing and hide in a hole. My anxiety makes it hard for me to go out at all, especially with people, especially with the chance of meeting strangers, especially to a place (a destination as opposed to just being out walking around town), especially when I'm unable to leave at anytime, especially when I can't sit comfortably to regulate pain, especially when I don't feel in control or knowledgeable... can you see why church can be so hard sometimes? 
I've gone off track here, as I was saying- by the evening I'm ready to cancel but I try to convince myself that I'm in control by planning. I plan what I need to take, what bag  I need and what to have for breakfast. Then comes the dreaded moment of choosing an outfit. And Satan's back in full force. I'm not a dress or skirt kind of girl, I'm a jeans and check shirt, converse and a hoody type of girl. Leather boots and leggings at a push, but not a dress. And not a dress that could be described as 'Sunday best' so even though I try to shop for church dresses I'm usually erring on the casual side due to my personal (lack of) style and my need for comfortable clothing. Somehow, there are a lot of LDS ladies that have this ability to dress themselves immaculately with their groomed horde of children, while their husband left three hours ago for meetings. It's intimidating beyond belief, I know that's an exaggeration but that's how it feels most days- I'm just not ladylike enough. So there comes Satan telling me that I'm not pretty enough, I look terrible and everyone is judging me and I believe it. Hook, line and sinker I fall because I already feel so fragile that a feather could know me down. I nearly always cry on either Saturday night or Sunday morning because I'm convinced that I look awful, absolutely and disgustingly awful which is why I often wear make-up to church, even though I'm not huge on that either, as a way to hide the red eyes and feel a little more put together. 
Satan comes for me on Saturday nights and tells me that I'm not good enough. He tells me to give up because I'm going to fail anyway and I don't always manage to win the fight. But I try, I chose my outfit even though it makes me cry. I plan my lesson and prepare my bag. I set my alarm and arrange my ride. I say a teary 'why is this so hard!' prayer and I try to sleep while my stomach churns with anxiety. 
I try because I know that's what counts. The trying is why we're here, oh how easy it would be to have a perfect knowledge and no fear of falling, but oh how sad it would be to know that I forfeited the eternal rewards. Remember that Satan wanted us to have no free will, to live a life free of failing, but also free of success and beauty. So I keep trying and while I try I remember that Jesus died for this very reason- he died so I could try. I can never repay the debt he cleared for me but by trying my hardest to win the battle with Satan I can show my gratitude. 
It's 11:45 Saturday night, I've been through all of this today and more. I'm teaching tomorrow and can't be at church next week as I'll be away so Satan worked a little harder, I don't have an outfit picked so I'll probably cry about that in the morning and I've already considered wiping my whole lesson plan and starting over at least twice. 
Satan came for me tonight and I'm not sure if I'm winning, but I'm sure as heck going to try. 
(As it's now midnight I haven't edited this. I'm sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes) 

No comments:

Post a Comment