The anxiety sits high in my chest.
right below my collar bones.
there wasn't one particular thought that set it off
not that i can recall
those are the two things that stir the heaviest within my skin
i sat home all day today
while others had a full day of activities
laundry piles higher,
dishes take over the counter
floors need vacuuming
events with friends bypassed
i lift my head long enough to take a breath
long enough to hug a baby, change her, feed her
i dress a child,
instruct them-- but how do i instruct them?
who am i to instruct them?
who am i?
i sit on this stone in my journey sometimes screaming silently for someone to care
conversations revolve around my patio
someone elses patio
words talking about material things with no meaning
not about things of substance
i've poured into others
others have poured into me
all that seems like a lifetime ago
all that seems to be false
as if it didn't happen
as if i've always lived this lonely exsistence
i wanna reach for a thrill
grab at something to take this heavy away
to stop the churning deep within
so i reach for the one true
thing i know
and the truth
I am reminded that God cares for me and I must cast my anxiety on Him, 1 Peter 5:7.
Reminded that He created me wonderfully, before the world even began, Psalm 139.
As I read through scripture I see that anxiety weighs me down but a good word makes me glad, Proverbs 12:25. That good word is the very Word of God.
God reminds me of practical things, of my friend who relieves me weekly from the responsibility of a 6 month old.
Or the friend who has stuck around the longest and who calls and texts and loves.
The dinners made.
The floors swept.
The I love yous and the thank yous.
I am reminded of the lies that weigh me down,
the lies that sit high in my chest,
heavy like the hammer of Thor,
unable to be removed expect by the King who is worthy to lift it.
Oh the lightness begins to sweep over me.
The joy of the Lord becomes my strength.
I have a new outlook.
I am ready to move again,
to handle my responsibilities with love.
To face another day,
another laundry pile,
or wash another drinking glass, or grocery shop,
change a diaper,
or take a verbal beating from a 4 year old.
Yes, Lord You truly are all You have said You are.
You are my hope.
You are my rock.
You are my joy,
Lover of my soul,
healer of my wounds.
Phew--- thanks for hanging in there as I work this whole thing out here on the pages of this blog.