I have a tendency to over-work my brain. I analyze and think
situations to the ground. And why is it that things seem so much worse in the
middle of the night? Last week, I tossed and turned, contemplated the ends and
outs of a situation that has been bothering me. In the darkness of the night, I
walked around my house, searching for a spot where I felt at peace. I made it
back to my bed and eventually fell asleep. I really hate anxiety and those sick
feelings that seep into our minds and bodies. I wish there was a real pill that
just cleared all of them up.
As my heart pounds, I remember that the closest thing to a
pill is prayer. The Lord’s plans the only way. Instead of getting worked up, we
must surrender and trust. I find it hard to realize when it is my job to take
initiative, and when I should return to the on-going annoying idea of patience.
Why must patience be the answer to everything? And why is it so hard for me to
trust and be patient?
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