I’ve always believed in all the miracles Jesus performed in the Gospels and witnessed how Jesus has changed the lives of those around me. However, I never expected Jesus to transform my life. 

This past January, I was at a conference in Ottawa with Catholic Christian Outreach (CCO). During one of the last days of the conference, I was asked, alongside several others, to pray with people. I was asked to pray alongside two others: my fiancé and the co-founder of CCO. 

I was so intimidated to share the spiritual senses I received with the first participant because I believed that whatever the co-founder had to say had to be better than anything I could. 

I invited the Holy Spirit to work through me and calm my fears. After missing one opportunity to share, the Holy Spirit prompted me to be bold. The Holy Spirit continued to elicit images, words, and encouragement, and I shared this with whoever we were praying over. It was unbelievable how the things I shared complimented what my pray-over partners received in prayer. I felt the Holy Spirit work through me as I surrendered my whole self to His power. I was in awe at my witness to the Holy Spirit. 

I finally understood in my heart that the Holy Spirit commissioned me as His disciple, and in accordance with His will, I had the authority to work miracles in Jesus’ name. In the weeks that followed the conference, I began praying more boldly, asking the Lord for precisely what I needed, and having the trust to know that He would provide it if He willed it. I started praying for small things like for extra time to work on assignments or for my fiancé to find his (always missing) earbuds. 

I realized that I had never had the courage to get prayed over or earnestly ask the Lord for the healing of my anxiety. I have dealt with this probably my whole life, but it has been so debilitating for the last five years. 

Often, I would pray for the strength to overcome my mental illness, but I never thought to ask the Lord to take it away. Over the years, I accumulated a long list of excuses for not bringing my illness to Jesus. At first, I was prideful and wanted the satisfaction of knowing I overcame my anxiety with my power, coping skills, and hard work in therapy. Then, I didn’t believe the Lord loved me enough to heal me because I felt abandoned by God when I experienced hardship in my family. Next, the excuse was I didn’t think my burden was worthy of God’s attention, and other people were suffering more than me. My anxiety was terrible, but I was doing my best to manage it, so why would I waste my prayers on it? It was as if I believed I had a limited number of wishes for a genie and didn’t want to waste one on a silly mental illness. 

So, I decided to carry the burden of anxiety on my own and let it become part of who I was. I felt like I was too weak to let go of this part of me, and I just needed more spiritual strength and willpower. This is where I was spiritually at the beginning of this year. 

Following the conference, I started reading I Believe in Love by Fr. Jean C.J D’Elbée, as an addition to my daily prayer. The book guides the reader through different themes based on the teaching of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Fr. D’Elbée talks about how St.Thérèse desired to be weak so that Jesus could make her strong. I realized that I was “climb[ing] the rough stairway to perfection instead of taking the gentle elevator of the arms of Jesus.” (Elbée, 2001, p. 28) I felt convicted at the end of January to ask for the healing of my anxiety and depression in Jesus’ name. 

Instead of asking for the strength to overcome my illness, I asked that the Lord would make me weak to rely on Him. 

I prayed for a greater reliance on God so that my fears and sorrow would cease to plague me because I would be secure in His love. I finally saw that in St. Thérèse’s Little Way, true strength comes from surrendering everything to the Lord— including every anxious or desperate thought. I needed to trust that Jesus would take care of these worries. My prayer was so earnest and so pivotal to my spiritual life. I cried so much as I journaled and felt an instant release of tightness in my chest. I knew that even if Jesus didn’t heal me, my surrender was already such a leap in my faith. 

The next couple of days, I felt immense peace wash over me. Whenever an anxious thought crossed my mind, I would lift it up to the Lord. This practice comforted me so much, and I didn’t feel alone like I did before. I finally recognized that Jesus hears and wants to accept every thought, prayer, burden, and even the most minor inconvenience. 

This Lenten season, I had the opportunity to reflect on how my life mirrors the Paschal Mystery. My burden of mental illness united with the Lord’s Passion. I had to surrender my will to that of the Father. I had to die for myself, my pride and my strength. I exhausted every option of therapy to heal myself. By hitting a wall in my progress and giving up control, I died with Christ. And I experienced the glorious miracle of my healing and closer relationship with Jesus. I truly felt a “resurrection” of who I was made to be before I had anxiety issues. 

For years, I knew that I should surrender my anxiety disorder to the Lord. I was so comfortable living my Good Friday, coping with my pain, that I didn’t even see my Easter Sunday as an option. The Gospel story didn’t end with Jesus’ death. 

In my life, I will continue to live Christ’s Paschal Mystery. I will continue to suffer, surrender, and be lifted up by Christ again and again. My anxiety isn’t cured. My self-reliance isn’t cured. But I continually surrender these burdens in prayer each day and let Jesus take care of them. It has been the greatest blessing to grow in intimacy with Jesus. Even when I don’t feel His presence, just the memory of everything He has done for me reminds me that He is trustworthy. God has never failed, even in conquering death. Why would He start now?