I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone who enjoys chopping onions. It’s a little tedious. They make your hands smell, and your eyes tear up. For me, though, for many years, chopping onions brought anxiety.
Back in 2009, we were in the process of leaving a church. The pastor’s wife had a particular vendetta against me, mainly stemming from her own delusions and unwarranted jealousy. I was being ostracized by people I had called friends. So during this, I was already emotionally exhausted, while chopping onions for dinner on a Fall evening. I got a phone call from my brother-in-law while I was in the middle of chopping them. He was angry with me because my brother had flipped him off while he was walking down the street one day. I wasn’t accountable for the actions of my adult brother who lived in a different state than I did at the time, and I told my BIL that. There was a long conversation that followed, filled with vitriol. I was already in a tired state emotionally from the church situation, and this just made that worse. And after the phone call? I had to keep on chopping onions.
For whatever reason, that feeling stuck. For years, every time I chopped onions, no matter where I was at or what time of day it was, I would get anxiety from chopping onions. What I didn’t know at the time, was that I had PTSD, and this was only exacerbating the root issue of the illness.
Fast-forward to yesterday, and I was making lunch. I was chopping onions for soup, while listening to a vinyl play in the background. Nearly finished, I suddenly realized that I had been chopping an onion, and that anxious feeling hadn’t come to me. I wasn’t brought back visually, and via the touch and smell senses to that very difficult time that I was having. Yesterday I had been content, and happy while cooking lunch. I was enjoying the simple task, even chopping onions, which isn’t the most pleasant of household chores. I was glad to come to that realization, and it made me wonder how long I had been chopping onions without that anxious feeling.
This morning, I wanted to make this post, so I was trying to think of a Scripture to use for it. The verse in Psalms 23 came to mind: He restores my soul.
That is what He has done in my life. Despite some life hardships, I can do things that used to cause me anxiety with a whole heart. I think that God showed me while chopping onions that I am healed. I’m in a very different state of emotion than I was 10 years ago. (And Eric just so happens to agree.)
God can heal things that science and medicine can’t. He can restore souls.