Staying with God

A long time ago, I got this question from a blog reader: How did you make the decision to ‘stay’ with God when your struggles came from that relationship?

I think I’m ready to write about that now.

White wall texture with a chair

So … for those of you who are newer to the blog, a bit of backstory: I battled with OCD– mostly of a spiritual nature– for about twenty years before I finally underwent treatment. While OCD has told me countless lies, the hardest one was that I was not loved and accepted by God and that I was going to hell. Nearly all of my battles with OCD had their root in this lie. It was– and remains– my worst thing imaginable (which, of course, is what OCD goes after).

I know that some people who have battled with OCD of a scrupulous or spiritual nature have eventually walked away from the faith. My understanding (though I could be wrong) is that the guilt and fear and, oh, lifestyle guidelines are too severe, so they end up having to distance themselves from it all in order to maintain some semblance of sanity and freedom.

As I said, I could be describing that wrong. The truth is that I’ve never understood it. My OCD centered around the idea that God was the most important person in my life and my fear was that I did not have him … or could not … or that he would refuse to have me. When that was my most intense terror, where would the relief have come from by choosing to walk away myself? I would have been willfully walking into that which was my darkest fear.

So, for me, clinging to Christ was my only hope in the midst of such darkness. Had I let go, I’d have been choosing the terror I was desperately trying to avoid.

Praise God that– while I was clinging to him, so afraid of falling– I was safe in his hands. I just didn’t know it. There is a difference between fearing that a chair will not hold you and a chair that will really not hold you. A huge difference. That said, the fear alone may keep you from enjoying the chair. But for those of us with OCD, our fears and our reality might be miles apart, but we’ve lost the ability to see that gaping chasm between them.

That’s where treatment comes in. Exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy saved my life and gave me new eyes to see the difference between my fears and the truth. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but 5000% worth it. Today I get to enjoy my relationship with Christ in ways my OCD prevented me from in the past.

If you want to learn more about my faith, click here.
If you want to learn more about OCD and ERP, click here.

OCD & Faith

I was recently asked how my faith survived 20 years of abuse at the hand of OCD.  This fellow sufferer wondered how I reconciled/justified my continued believe in God after so much hurt and such a sense of betrayal.

It’s a great question.

I am a Christian, that is, I believe that Jesus Christ is God’s only son, that he came to earth to rescue men, died on a cross on a Friday, and rose again to life the following Sunday.  

It’s actually the story of the cross and the resurrection that have allowed me to cling to my faith.

The agony of the cross shows me that Jesus understands my suffering; we identify with one another. And the victory of the resurrection prompts me to have hope in my suffering, knowing that only a weekend separated the worst story from becoming the best; I am filled with hope that, just as I identify with him in his suffering, I will also identify with him in his victory.

The truth is that without the gospel of Christ, it would be difficult for me to justify my continued faith.


For more about my faith, go to
For (lots!) more about OCD and ERP, go to

cross and resurrection