An Anxious Sunrise

           This morning I woke up like many
mornings full of anxiety. This coming from a guy who used to brag about not
worrying about anything. I was thinking about my vocation, my various writing
endeavors. I worried about X and wondered about Y and then felt a bit weary
thinking about Z. This was nothing unusual. This happens more often than I’d
like to admit.
prayed. Prayer helps. But prayer doesn’t cover me with some Zen-like Band-aid
and send me back to sleep. I’d love to say I give all my weary worries over to
God, but I don’t. I keep some for myself. I keep some to stroke and caress and
treat like Gollum’s Preccciiiousss.
not long after the whole family had woken up, I recalled another time in my
life when I carried burdens around me in my wonderful soul-shaped backpack.
There was a time I felt anger at God for not giving me what I felt I deserved.
Yes, I was a jackass and a lot more than that. But I felt high and mighty and
felt I deserved to have my dreams met. I deserved to be a fulltime writer. I especially deserved
a family. Yet these things were nowhere on
the horizon. Bitterness covered me like sweat on a blistering hot summer day.
maker of this universe and every creature in it—and I’m not just saying that to
sound nice because I really believe God did exactly that—could have flicked me away
like a useless fly irritating Him. But instead, He did the opposite. He said Okay.
He said Here you go.
            The writing thing—all of it pales in comparison to
our little girls. Those three precious souls I see on a daily basis humble me
and make me thankful God has mercy on foolish sinners.
am I to doubt Him? I mean, seriously.
held all three girls at some point today, and I remembered that armful of worry
I held inside.
what if X doesn’t happen?
who cares if Y doesn’t materialize?
so why does Z matter so much to me anyway?
and His timing. A phrase I grew to know so well.
and His mercy. A phrase I’m growing to know daily.
blessed and yet I still sometimes don’t get it. I still worry and wonder and
wait for some kind of miraculous, gigantic parting of the Red Sea.
I find myself on dry land and see the sea behind me and wonder when and how it
got parted in the first place.
I find myself thankful, knowing tomorrow is not promised, and knowing I’m not
defined by my mistakes of the past. Tonight I’m the hero God somehow picked me
to be, and I’m trying to continue on the journey He wants me to be on.
help me remain strong. Or at least as strong as I’m able to be. 

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