It’s been one of those weeks.
Too much on the to do list. Too little time to get everything in.
As Monday gives way to Tuesday and Tuesday turns in to Wednesday, it begins.
I don’t even know how to describe it. I just recognize it’s signs and know that my usual calm is gone.
So I quote scripture. I say verses from childhood. Recall passages of comfort. I look for the verses about anxiety and I cling to them. The words and the rhythm help. But, still,
I cant’ breathe.
The walls are closing in.
Everything I needed to do has been accomplished.
But there is this gnawing deep in the pit of my stomach.
I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and cry out to someone.
Will he hear me? Will he listen? Does he care?
Then these verses pop in my head. And I know, he hears. He cares. He promises he is with me. He is my protector.
You who sit down in the High God’s presence,
spend the night in Shaddai’s shadow,
Say this: “God, you’re my refuge.
I trust in you and I’m safe!”
That’s right—he rescues you from hidden traps,
shields you from deadly hazards.
His huge outstretched arms protect you—
under them you’re perfectly safe;
his arms fend off all harm.
Fear nothing—not wild wolves in the night,
not flying arrows in the day,
Not disease that prowls through the darkness,
not disaster that erupts at high noon.
Even though others succumb all around,
drop like flies right and left,
no harm will even graze you.
You’ll stand untouched, watch it all from a distance,
watch the wicked turn into corpses.
Yes, because God’s your refuge,
the High God your very own home,
Evil can’t get close to you,
harm can’t get through the door.
He ordered his angels
to guard you wherever you go.
If you stumble, they’ll catch you;
their job is to keep you from falling.
You’ll walk unharmed among lions and snakes,
and kick young lions and serpents from the path. Psalm 91:1-13
I close with this:
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Philippians 4:6