Predictably, about once a month I wake up and wonder if the progress I think I’ve made, is actually making progress at all. It’s like one of those “the more you know, the more you know you don’t know” moments – With Life. With Faith. With Dreams. Overwhelmed, all I want to do is just curl up in the fetal position and cry over spilled milk.
And sometimes, well, sometimes I do just that.
But I’m thankful that those “sometimes” don’t last forever. I’m thankful that when I begin to feel the old familiar fears and anxieties come crawling up behind me, they don’t need to stay. Instead, it’s like those nights when you wake up from a bad dream, and you softly pad your way to your parents’ bedroom. You hold your breath, hoping they’re awake, because if they’re not, it would be devastating. But they are. And you snuggle in between the sheets, no questions asked. And even though you’re allowed to be scared and discouraged… you don’t need to be. Because the fear is gone. The “sometimes” is over. It’s just metaphorical spilled milk.
I love it when Truth Prevails.
“Lord, you have brought light to my life; my God, you light up my darkness.” – Psalm 18:28
