Claustraphobia

I am not immune to phobias, though I never know when they are going to strike. I can stand on top of a building for 12 hours straight, but suddenly find myself afraid of heights crossing a bridge. Its an irrational fear that never rises to the level of checking myself in to a Mel Brooks kind of High Anxiety hospital, but it is a real palpable feeling.

I remember once wrapping myself up tight in my blankets, in an almost cocoon, to stay warm one cold night (something I still do to this day). Just as I got myself perfectly secured so that all the cold air remained outside my blankets and my body temp could warm the air around me inside the blankets, I was suddenly overcome with a terrible feeling of claustrophobia. I remember this blinding terror that I would be trapped inside these blankets and suffocate. I thrashed crazily and managed to unwrap the blankets in a matter of seconds and then sat bolt upright in my bed, panting and perspiring in the cold air. It was stupid. But the feeling had been as real as anything I have ever experienced.

Sometimes I have other irrational fears and thoughts. They just come over me. "What if God isn't real? What if the Bible's got it wrong? What if I stopped believing in God? Or worse, what if I never really believed in Him at all?" The same blind panic overcomes me and I mentally thrash around for a few seconds until I can get my bearings straight again.

These faith tremors don't strike all the time. They are fairly infrequent and are often quelled with a redoubled effort in faith - "Don't be ridiculous!" I wonder sometimes if these are the birth pangs of strengthened faith; that every time I need more faith to get through things, I first go through these episodic tornadoes of doubt.

When I read recently of Mother Theresa's doubts about her faith that she privately confessed to a senior pastor in letters, it made me smile. If Mother Theresa could have these small hurricanes of doubt then my doubt was perfectly normal, and perhaps a sign that I was being drawn further into Christ's embrace. The more I am called to do His will, the more I have reason to doubt (or something like that - Mother Theresa undoubtedly saw many things that would have rattled her faith in a loving and compassionate God - never realizing that her very efforts were quelling others doubts about the exact same thing).

I think we tend to fear our doubts in quiet times so that when we really need our faith, we don't have to doubt that it is there - sort of like little faith fire drills. It is only in the quiet times that we have the ability to properly reflect on the things we have seen and done, and only in those times that doubt can attack us.

When it comes to being human, alas, most of us follow the example of St. Thomas.