All in Anxiety
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!
While on a mission trip to California, our team spent one afternoon at the beach—an afternoon I’ll never forget. My best friend and I were swimming, when I suddenly realized I was caught in the current and unable to swim toward shore. No amount of effort on my part helped. My friend noticed my dilemma and began screaming for help. Immediately, a tall, strong guy on the mission team swam to me and began throwing me shoreward. He rescued me! Years later, we saw him and his family. The first thing he said to my girls was, “I saved your mother’s life!” He did, and I’m thankful!
As I write this devotion, I am praying the words of our scripture fervently. Our family is facing a situation about which I have many questions, but I am trusting God to calm my fears.
I grew up in Miami, Florida in the 1950s and have some great memories of that time. Life was simple, safe, and carefree. I moved away from my hometown after college, but one of my friends stayed on and became a federal judge there.
They’re back! There’s one. There’s another. Look over there. I see it too! The lightning bugs had returned to brighten the evening hours. The girls squealed with amazement at the sight, and my own mind went back to childhood days when we ran to catch them in Mason jars then marveled at the twinkling container.
“Where do birdies come from, Mama?”
Only God can make a birdie.
“But why, Mama?”
To teach us to sing in the morning.
“But why, Mama?”
When I was a child, there was a “Mr. Men” and “Little Miss” book series written by Roger Hargreaves. The characters in the stories had dominant personality traits that either caused them problems or showed another character how to engage in the positive quality. Everyone learned something through the moral lesson of story.
“I can do it, I can do it!”
Those were my exact words, directed to my dad as a child, while I stood clenching a fishing rod, on the bank of a lake in the Rocky Mountains. I’d watched my dad’s technique so many times I was sure I could cast into the lake and catch a big trout.
You probably are in the midst of your Christmas shopping now. I find shopping stressful, do you?The crowds, the decisions, and the costs are overwhelming. Why have we allowed commercialism to take over this special celebration?
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.
