Looking at a beautiful mountain range, I considered how life is full of peaks and valleys. There are good moments and bad moments. But at the height of the peaks, I cannot see the valley ahead… just looming past the horizon.
All in Anxiety
Looking at a beautiful mountain range, I considered how life is full of peaks and valleys. There are good moments and bad moments. But at the height of the peaks, I cannot see the valley ahead… just looming past the horizon.
On multiple occasions God lifted David’s feet from the slimy pit and gave him a new song of praise. David faithfully documented those rescues with pen and parchment.
“Are you sure these straps will hold the both of us,” I asked as the skydiving instructor checked all the buckles on my harness. “I am sure,” he said. “Besides whatever happens to you happens to me. And I don’t want anything happening to either of us,” he added smiling.
Here it comes. It feels like a dark cloud trying to envelope me. I get busier willing myself to outrun it, ignore it, not give in to it. But, before I know it – anxiety, panic, temper tantrums, and sheer exhaustion set in. I begin to flounder.
I put my arms around his trembling body and, as I patted his head, I reassured him we were safe. Soon he fell asleep in my arms. I wish I could be that calm in my storms, I thought, as he drifted into a deep sleep.
Have you had that deep night of the soul experience when no words would come as you tried to present Jesus your need? I have. Those are times I’ve experienced that peace that makes no sense (Philippians 4:6-7). I can’t explain it, only experience the truth.
Sometimes God uses little things to realign our focus on Him, like a spiritual check engine light that quietly guides us back on the path.
I was scheduled for an MRI one Monday morning. The nurse asked me two questions: “Do you have any metal parts inside you?” and, “Are you claustrophobic?” I answered “no” to both questions and confidently entered the room where the big drum of a machine was standing ominously in front of me.
I had so much to do that day . . . that week . . . that month . . . that moment! Demands were pressing in on me from everywhere!
As the Texas temperatures rose to triple digits, they were no match for the parched feeling I had in my soul. I had been searching for a job and with each final interview round came a “No” – leaving my hopes dashed.
Rest for my soul? Soul Rest! Soul Rest just might be the most valuable commodity in today’s economy. It is something I have sought and treasured since the earliest days of my life.
The last time I recall seeking help with everything-within-me was in a dream -- actually a nightmare. A vicious snake coiled up at my feet and held me frozen with his gaze. I called for help, but no one heard me. With all my physical strength, I filled my lungs with air, then screamed H-E-L-P! with everything within me. I awoke to a pounding heart and a sweaty night shirt. I still vividly recall the emotion of that dream—that moment of desperation.
When we moved from a small East Texas town to a huge South Texas metropolis, I experienced some fear at night mainly because my husband’s job included travel leaving me home alone many nights.
I noticed it in the inner courtyard of a home in North Africa’s Atlas Mountains. Its intricacy reminded me of a Tinker Toy creation. What a surprise to discover it was a handmade stick trap for snaring small birds—a common pastime for local boys while tending their goats.
I sank into the overstuffed rocker and massaged my throbbing forehead.
For the past few days I’d been obsessing over a difficult situation. Not only did I think about it all day long, I woke up during the night to think about it some more. I kept chewing on the situation like a dog gnawing on a bone.
The fire of the LORD fell (18:38). The people proclaimed Yahweh, the self-existent and eternal God, Supreme* (18:39). And as surely as the LORD promised Elijah, the rains poured down (18:45) after three long years. It was evident that Baal had not begun and ended the drought. Surely God’s people would return to their senses.
Not long ago I retired from three decades of working at the same job. I faced a new season of unknowns and decision-making, which excited and paralyzed me. I couldn’t sleep. My mind raced. My heart was divided: i.e., anxious. Can anyone relate?
I sank into the overstuffed rocker and massaged my throbbing forehead.
For the past few days I’d been obsessing over a difficult situation. Not only did I think about it all day long, I woke up during the night to think about it some more. I kept chewing on the situation like a dog gnawing on a bone.
Have you ever had the feeling of Spring Fever? You just want to get out and do something. You might not even know what it is you really want to do. These words came to me during one of those times:
At first, the quarantine was not so bad. I had diligently stocked our pantry while often having flashbacks of my childhood. My grandmother’s kitchen was the center of family life, and she knew how to skillfully prepare meals on a limited budget. It’s funny that my newly acquired habit of carefully selecting organic fresh meats and produce flew out the window when I found myself feeling a sense of security with rice, beans, pasta, canned and frozen foods. Old recipes came to my mind, which brought comfort and I’m sure a few pounds!