Transcript
Let me illustrate this question even further by adding some specifics. What can I do when I’m having a pleasant conversation with my spouse and out of nowhere I think about grabbing a knife and stabbing them? What do I do when inappropriate thoughts overwhelm me as I’m giving my young child a bath or changing a diaper? What am I supposed to do if I’m sitting in church and I’m inundated with the thought of standing up and cursing the name of Jesus? Or what should I do when I have the random thought of throwing my phone out the car while I’m driving? I think you get the picture. This is what having intrusive thoughts typically looks like. Unplanned, unwanted, alien thoughts and images that are sexual or violent in nature or socially unacceptable.
Individuals that struggle with intrusive thoughts not only worry about whether or not these things might happen, but they agonize about whether or not having these thoughts means that they are deep-down inside things that the person actually wants to do. It’s a double distress, and it makes sense why this struggle can be so debilitating. So what can be done? We come back to the original question. What can I do in the moment when I’m struggling with intrusive thoughts?
Traditionally, the two main strategies for addressing intrusive thoughts are what not to do and what to do. There’s a what not to do strategy and a what to do strategy. First, the what not to do strategy. This strategy emphasizes that trying to fight intrusive thoughts head-on turns out to be a counterproductive task. That’s because the harder you try to push those thoughts away, the more they push back and the more entrenched they get, and the more you try to argue with the logic of these intrusive thoughts, the more counter-arguments show up. Either way, you can’t win.
The second strategy, the what to do strategy, promotes adopting a different relationship to these thoughts. So instead of seeing these intrusive thoughts as saying something about you or having some influence over you, the goal is to see these thoughts just as thoughts. Intrusive thoughts are not you. You are not your intrusive thoughts. Therefore, if these thoughts do not in fact represent who you really are deep inside, and these thoughts do not control your behaviors, you’re allowed to just observe them, to name them for what they are, and to let them run their course, without getting all tangled up in the content. You can say to yourself, Hey, it looks like I’m having that thought again, that junk thought, that unwanted violent thought, that inappropriate sexual thought. You can name them and then let them pass.
It may sound strange to hear me say this, but it really is in this context, the context of intrusive thoughts, where Scripture comes alive. For example, it just so happens that the bulk of wisdom found in these two strategies was already present in Psalm 131. These two strategies mirror the first two verses of Psalm 131. Verse 1 of Psalm 131 describes what the psalmist chooses not to do, and verse two describes what the psalmist chooses to do instead. In verse 1, the psalmist says, I do not concern myself with great matters, or things too wonderful for me. He is choosing not to consider thoughts, to solve problems or engage in endeavors that are beyond him. The implication here is that chasing after such things is futile, foolish, even prideful and presumptuous. And in verse 2, the psalmist chooses an alternative—but I have calmed and quieted my soul. The psalmist instead chooses to change his relationship to these unobtainable pursuits and objectives, and rest and let them go.
Most importantly, what sets Psalm 131 apart from other forms of wisdom is that it gives us more than just two helpful strategies. It directs us to a personal relationship with the living and trustworthy God. This is evident in verse 3, as the Psalm culminates in a call to entrust oneself to this personal God—O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. The psalmist’s pivoting of letting go of fruitless striving and instead taking a posture of rest is built on this trust. And in the same way, the pivot away from a striving and a clamoring to upend these intrusive thoughts and to instead embrace a different relationship to them forces us into a place of dependence and trust with this personal God.
Can God be bigger than what I feel or what seems logical? Can I trust his grace, sovereignty, and kindness? We let go of our capabilities, our logic, our strength, and entrust ourselves to him in doing something that feels so radical and risky. Because of him and who he is, the answer to all of these questions is yes—O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.