My feeling of being blessed within the stress lasted about three minutes. Long enough to click "publish this post". And then anxiety set in. A practically sleepless night followed, and by last night I was just a quivering blob of panic. Too many burdens and I'm not handing them over to Jesus like I should. And my Bible sits near my bed, unopened, because I feel incapable of focusing on anything deep. This is rather silly, as a Psalm would probably be just what I need.
Yet within the stress and the anxiety and the exhaustion, a still small voice penetrates the fog, whispering words I committed to memory long ago.
"...out of weakness, made strong" (Heb. 11:34)
"In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul." (Psa. 94:19)
"Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28)
1 year ago