Fears, Prayers, Robes

Fear has been consuming me the last few days.  Weeks.  Months.  It was camouflaged as daily worries, bills, being a good provider for my daughter–all of which I feel I am failing at.   I’m drowning in debt/fines.  Well I am not drowning, I’m just overwhelmed, waiting for this damn disability is killing me.  But anyway, last night, after another night of being wide awake, thoughts flying and racing and accumulating, I began to look at what was going on beneath my pounding heart and cramping chest (good ole anxiety)-but before I could see the problem, I thought of Jesus, and I began to cry.  When I am at my breaking points, he comes out of nowhere.  I felt his hand on my forehead like a parent checking for a fever and I felt love.  My lost girl, my lost child, I could feel him say.  Which only made me cry harder.  Whether this was my subconscious speaking, madness, or Him, who knows, but they were words given to me, not created by my waking psyche.  My pillow honestly felt like his robes and I cried and cried and I told him that I’m afraid.  Afraid of 38029_415what?  Death? Yes.  No.  I’m afraid of myself.  Again.  I’m afraid of fear–terrified of fear.  I could feel peace seeping in a little, and then I reached for him thinking the moment was fleeting, but he was still there, in my heart, and I was saying in my mind–you’re still here, you never leave—and the response was that he never ever leaves, that he is here and was here the whole time, I just had to realize it because I was the one that would leave, not him.  Having someone to love you so unconditionally and never leave you and still want to hold you and dry your tears no matter what kind of monster you feel like–that alone makes me cry.  I tested my ‘sick thoughts’ on him and they didn’t hold either–you’re just sick, he’d seem to say–it’s not you.  My chest pain began to go away.  I thought of my favorite (psalm?)–when you see only one set of footprints, that is when I carried you.  He has carried me quite often.  And you know there is no asking for relief from this life, there is only being thankful for what you have.  I stared at my little Emma and thanked him over and over for her and then I went into a sort of deeper meditation, asking myself if maybe I’m too tired for this life.  Or something else was asking me if I was too tired to do this anymore.  The room changed.  Everything I looked at looked tiresome and redundant and depressing and empty and so so lonely.  I’m so lonely. I thought about death, about how that slip must be so simple when the time comes, a relief.   But some kind of light always remains in me–I KNOW there is something greater I am meant to do.  I have so much more to give.  I have so much to teach Emma.  So much is in me.  And in my heart He said–then do it.  Love yourself, it’s the only way you can love her better and show her what you want to show her.  Take care of your body, or it WILL fail you.  Get up.  Again.  And love yourself.

So that’s the plan.  Thanks for listening.

2 thoughts on “Fears, Prayers, Robes

  1. sounds like a wonderful plan…you were ripping at my heart strings early on in this…i feel the same somewhat…particularly in the money area…we are at a critical point and its killing me…a few months and we will be fine, when i finally get any kind of pay from the old company i worked for that went bkt, but every day is a challenge in that regard…there is a strong message in this for you though…i am glad you heard it…

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  2. Jesus IS here and you’re right, He never leaves. Keep talking to Him, keep listening. The footprints thing is a saying and not a Psalm. It’s comforting nonetheless, and it’s true. I would be nothing without Him. My prayers are for you Amy. (My favorite Psalm is 139.)

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