Anxiety, that old beast.
It looms heavy over my head and heart, making me feel paralyzed. It wraps its arms around my lungs and squeezes so tightly my breathing becomes labored. It reaches into my entire being and makes me tremble with fear.
I’m always surprised at how quickly I can go from being completely fine to spiraling into wishing for relief from the weight of it all—the weight of this life.
This life, with all its beauty and joy drowned out by the screaming voice in my head that fights for my full attention like my toddler when my focus is elsewhere. It throws a tantrum in my brain and leaves me depleted of energy to fight.
And I wish I was easily comforted by the simple command to “trust God.” I know all the right truths and yet I find they aren’t magically taking it all away. Why won’t you take it away, Lord?
So I sit, with the only truth I can cling to. The truth spoken from a friend over me: he is with me. He is holding me. He won’t abandon me in my struggle. And I wrestle, I wrestle until finally I rest. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But one day I will rest.
Lord, give me rest.
