{i had no idea of what was about to unfold
because of this one night at Josh Wilson’s concert}

Is there a piece of your story that you’ve been afraid to share with someone close to you?

Maybe you feel it’s better to stay silent.  You’re trying to protect them, but you feel a part of you is invisible. Unknown.

Sometimes, it may not be time to share certain stories.

But, more often than not — at least in my case — fear keeps me from sharing what I long to express.

Sometimes, to be real, we need to allow God to speak through a living story — in you. And in me.

We need to break our silence.

Something unexpected happened to me last month.  Pull up a chair and stay a while. Let me tell you a story.

I hope it will encourage you on your journey today…

I didn’t want to tell them.

They might think something was wrong with their mommy.

I wanted my children to feel safe and loved.  I wanted to be the mommy who was there to always listen, care, ask questions, laugh at their jokes, and have a hug ready for them after school along with some Oreos and a glass of milk.

I didn’t want them exposed to my broken memories.

When I gave birth to my sons Josh and Caleb, it was as if I breathed a big sigh of relief — breaking across some imaginary finish line of the childhood I wanted to leave far behind.

I wanted to be an unbroken mommy.

So, if you can believe or not, I’ve managed to live through two years of anxiety, panic attacks and insomnia — and publish a book this summer about that journey — without my children knowing I ever had a panic attack.

No Idea

On the days that anxiety was particularly debilitating, thanks to my friend Merrianne, who discipled me when I was in junior high, my children spent time after school with “Auntie” Merrianne, while I rested.  I went to do therapy in the daytime when they were in school.  On the weekends, hubby Eric was with me, so he had my back when I felt overwhelmed with anxiety.

They’ve been proud that mommy’s book is in the bookstore, but I’ve told them they can read the book when they were older.  That’s been just fine with them.

Well, I thought I had gotten past this whole long panic-attack season in my life without telling my sons about any this.

But, a couple months ago, I found out award-winning Christian singer-songwriter Josh Wilson from Nashville was currently on his #CarryMe Concert Tour and he was coming to my neck of the woods — Walnut Creek, California.

Josh Wilson’s music has inspired me on my journey to write my memoir-driven book Finding Spiritual Whitespace.  Back in 2011, when I was struggling to complete the book proposal, I heard his song “Fall Apart” on XM radio.

 

How can I come to the end of me
But somehow still have all I need?

God I want to know you more
Maybe this is how it starts
I find you when I fall apart.

– lyrics to Fall Apart
by Josh Wilson
@thebonniegray

 

I had no idea at the time that writing the manuscript would trigger traumatic memories that brought on my first panic attacks.

Josh Wilson’s lyrics were so honest and vulnerable.  I wanted to write this same way.

Inspired

I felt inspired to be bold and finish the proposal to the book I really wanted to write — rather than the book I thought was safer to publish.

I emailed him to thank him for his song.  To my surprise, Josh Wilson emailed back some encouraging words.

{Josh Wilson’s guitar.  i took a photo of it at rest before the concert.
the stories and memories this guitar must carry} 

Two years later, I found myself writing a completely different book that would tell the whole world about the memories I’ve been afraid to face my whole life.

One of my greatest fears — in addition to the people who be very angry at me for telling my story — was for my children.

What if my kids read it and lose faith in me as their mom?

One friend advised me, “Bonnie, are you sure you really want to do this?  Because there is no going back.  Once it’s printed, it will be with you forever.”

As I was considering the ramifications of publishing my book, I heard an interview on XM The Message, on our way to church one Sunday.

It was Josh Wilson.

Freeing My Heart

Josh was telling the whole world that he experienced his first panic attack.  A very severe one. The same year I had mine.

What was amazing is this:  they were still happening, although not as severe. So was I.

Even more amazing thing was this: he recorded an entire album of songs inspired about his journey with God through his panic attacks.

I was completely floored.

I had been so afraid of what other people would think of me when they found out about my panic attacks.

Yet, here was Josh Wilson, literally singing his story boldly in his album, among his peers. (click the video below to hear what moved my heart)

I knew in that moment, God was freeing my heart to publish my book.

So, back to this Josh Wilson concert.

Couldn’t Shake It Off

I was originally going to make it a fun outing — a double date with another couple.

But, when we found out younger son Caleb’s soccer game was scheduled the same time, I got the idea to take my eight-year-old Josh instead.

But, Josh Wilson will probably talk about his panic attacks.  I said to myself.  I don’t want (my) Josh to even hear the words “panic attack”.  I don’t want him asking me about this.

So, I shook off the idea.

But, I couldn’t shake the idea out of my mind.

It’s always been on my wish list to take Josh to his first Christian concert. Like a music/worship right-of-passage, I wanted to create that memory with him.

So, I decided.  I’ll take him.

Eric tried encouraging me, “Maybe Josh won’t even notice the words “panic attack”.  He’ll be into the music more than anything.”

I wasn’t so sure.

Uncomfortable Spotlight

I had emailed Josh Wilson to let him know we were coming, so we squealed when we got special passes to hang out with Josh and his wife Becca before the concert.

My Josh was so excited after meeting him.  “I got to actually shake his hand, Mom!” he said with eyes popping out as we ran to get seats close to the front. “And you even got to meet his wife, Becca!”

{meeting Josh Wilson and Becca in real life
felt like sitting out by the lake in the summer
after a fun day together.  it was just easy.}

It was so awesome to finally catch up a bit in real life, after exchanging emails over the years. Like meeting an old friend.

So, when we settled into our seats for some awesome music and guitar magic by Josh Wilson and his band, I forgot all about my worries… until the lights dimmed and Josh Wilson started telling his story.

Josh Wilson didn’t just say the words “panic attack”.

Josh Wilson described his panic attack.

— how he was rushed to the ER

— how panic attacks would wake him up at night

— how it got so bad, he could not breathe.  for hours.

This was an entire story Josh Wilson was telling, smack dab in the middle of his set.

Josh Wilson was putting the entire spotlight of his message and his concert on how God carried him through his panic attacks.

And it seemed God was shining a very a big, uncomfortable spotlight on me and my Josh too.

Hurt By Silence

Really, God?  But, I don’t want to talk to (my) Josh about this now.

I remembered what my therapist Dr. P told me when I asked him if telling Josh about my panic attacks would ruin his idyllic childhood and shake his trust in me.

“Goodness, no!”  Dr. P was incredulous I would think such a thing. “Josh is very well loved.  He would trust you even more.

Children are more hurt by our silence than by the truth.

When we keep things secret, children feel isolated and lonely without answers. Telling him the truth frees him from the anxiety of trying to figure life out on his own. He has you.”

Even so, I didn’t quite believe him.  Because you see, I’m used to surviving and that means not talking about anything that’s hurtful.

It Was Time

As we drove out of the parking after the concert, Josh asked me, “So mom.  You know how Josh Wilson said he couldn’t breathe for hours because he had a panic attack…  Don’t you die if you don’t have oxygen?”

{the sunset against dusk that evening was so still and clear,
like a river running clear in winter over rocks in the riverbed}

I was in the middle of explaining it wasn’t literal, that it was a hyperbole, when he asked his next question. “So, what causes panic attacks?… Because I get nervous when I take a test.”

I explained panic attacks only happen when you experience out of the ordinary trauma.

“What is ‘trauma’?” He asked. Hmm… This was not where I wanted to steer the conversation.

“Well, there are many different causes for trauma… for panic attacks…”  I could tell I was creating more questions than answers.

I knew in my heart it was time for me to tell him what I could about my experience — that was age appropriate.

I suggested we go out to Chili’s Restaurant to have a second dinner, since the sandwiches we ate earlier in the night had evaporated.

My Greatest Fear

I began to talk while the GPS guided us on the map.

“So Josh, trauma can be physical, like getting in a really bad accident. You feel trauma when something really, really painful happens to you.  Not everyday stuff that makes you nervous.

Trauma can also be emotional – with your feelings – if someone hurts your heart very deeply.  That you don’t expect and no one is there to experience or feel it with you.  And you keep it inside…”

Josh nodded and I could feel my words were reaching him.

“But, the beautiful thing is that God knows and He understands. He can heal us — in our hearts — the way He heals our body heals if it gets injured. But, we have to talk about our hurts, so it can heal.  We have to tell our story…”

Josh was listening intently.

“So, you know that book Mommy wrote — Finding Spiritual Whitespace — the one I said you would read later when you’re older?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, mommy had some very painful things happen to me when I was a little girl.  Words that really hurt me deep inside.  So, mommy had panic attacks.  But, God took care of me.  I wrote about all this.  The same way Josh Wilson put his story in his songs, I put mine in a book.”

I didn’t give too much detail, but I offered a couple stories about what had hurt me as a little girl.

“Why did your mom treat you like that?  She’s your mom.  You’re her daughter.”  Josh sounded concerned and confused.

My greatest fear seemed to be happening.

Would this rift between my mother and I ruin his ideals on love and family?

Would this shatter his sense of security — on what was beautiful and good in the world? 

Would knowing I had panic attacks cast doubt on my ability to care for him?  

As I struggled to think of a simple answer, I told him I needed some time to think about it.

Your Now Family

As we slid into our chairs at Chili’s, waiting for our order, my sweet son, his eyes tender like raindrops in the fall turned to me.

He said, “Mom.  I think I know why your mom did all those hurtful things to you.”

“You do?” I was afraid to hear his answer.

“I don’t think your mom knew what love is. Not like you.  She didn’t know how to love you.” He said it like he was telling me 1+1=2.

And I just bawled, my heart like a flowing river, the love of a son breaking the dam that held my heart’s broken world.

“Oh, Josh,” my voice cracked.  “Come here.” I reached across the table and pulled his hand towards me, so he would come sit next to me.

I hugged him hard, as I blew my nose.  “Wow. You are so wise,” I said to him, with a kiss, cheek to cheek.  “I love you.”

“It’s okay. Mom.  That was your growing up family.  Now, me, Caleb and Daddy are your now family.  We love you now.”  I couldn’t stop the tears.

“You were sad then. But, not any more. Right, Mom?” Josh searched my eyes.  I knew he needed the reassurance of a child.

“That’s right.  Sometimes I feel sad, thinking about what happened when I was a little girl. Bu, I’m happy right now.  Very, very happy.”  Josh’s eyes sparkled and he smiled.

Then he asked if we could play some video games on the touch screen the waitress placed on our table.

“Please?…It’s a special mommy-and-me night, right?”

“Sure,” I caved in. “Why not? Let’s do it!”

Then, we tried to shoot alien bugs as they rained down on us.

Something I Never Had

Later, when we walked out to the car, Josh leaned into me and said, “Mom. Thanks for telling me about everything.”

“I’m so blessed you’re my son,” I hugged him tight. “You’re very special to me, Josh.  I’ll remember tonight always.”

“Me too. I feel so happy.”  Josh squeezed me in a big bear hug under the stars.

I know conversations like these don’t always turn out so neatly as they did this time.

Because life is complicated, Josh’s questions will get harder to answer over time.  But, I felt such an amazing joy, knowing I was breaking new ground with my son, different from my family of origin.

I wasn’t hiding.  Even the hard pieces.  I’m sharing my story — my journey with God — as is.  With my son.

I realized in that moment as we made the drive home, my son experienced something I never had as a little girl.

My son doesn’t have to hide. My son can confide in me.

I’m learning to confide in God more deeply too.

I’m learning to trust God to guide my child, as I allow Him to guide me.

If you’ve been wondering if it’s better to stay silent or share your story with your children or your spouse, look for an opportunity.

Create the space to be vulnerable and enjoy something good and beautiful together.

In that safety of spiritual whitespace — making room to just be together — try to confide.

Break your silence.

Start with what you can and let God guide the conversation.

The truth brings intimacy.

Even if it involves sharing your brokenness — shared in love — God can use your story to bring healing.  

To your heart. And theirs.

~~~~~

Is God prompting you to share your story with a family, friend, co-worker — or maybe through your voice, your music, writing or art?

Pull up a chair.  Click to comment. I love hearing your thoughts.

If you haven’t had a chance yet, check out my friend Josh Wilson’s new album Carry Me.  I know you’ll love the lyrics and the musicality in each track.  They will inspire you in your everyday.

And if you live near one of the cities still left in Josh Wilson’s Carry Me Concert Tour (click here to check out concerts dates).  Get a ticket and experience his music live! Go with a friend or two. Drop me a line and lemme know if you do! I’d love to hear all about it.

Now It’s Your Turn

Whitespace Thursdays Link Up

Blog about your whitespace moments. 

Publish your post ANY DAY of the week.  

Link up on Thursday.
Visit & comment on the post before yours.

Use the Whitespace Thursday Linkup Badge.

Write what prompts your heart. Share your voice.

Today’s Writing Prompt:

{share a moment of connection
with someone you love}

0r

{share a whitespace moment} 

– share what God’s sharing with you

~ how are you experiencing God this week?

– share your moments of beauty and rest

– share what’s feeding your soul

* If you’re reading the book, share how the book is speaking to you.

* Choose your own open writing prompt.  Be you.

Thank you for using #spiritualwhitespace to share your pictures on Instagram & Twitter!
It’s fun to see the moments that feed your soul this week!

{email subscribers, click here to link up your post in the Whitespace Linkup.}

Take The Journey of Rest With Me

Take the Finding Spiritual Whitespace journey to make space to rest.

Take the journey of self-discovery with Jesus with journaling prompts for individual or intimate group exploration. 

Purchase a copy of my memoir-driven guidebook for yourself and your friends.  Because rest isn’t a journey we need to take alone.  We need each other.

Let’s be kindreds. Let’s meet between the pages of Finding Spiritual Whitespace.

“Whitespace is soul grace. Bonnie Gray ushers weary women into the real possibility.”–Ann Voskamp, New York Times bestselling author of One Thousand Gifts

“Women need this message. If you want to hear Jesus speak more tenderly to your soul than ever before, this is the book for you.”–Lysa TerKeurst, New York Times bestselling author of Unglued

“We live in a culture that brags and boasts about being busy. Into that reality steps Bonnie with a new idea.”–from the foreword by Jon Acuff, New York Times bestselling author of Start