Over My Head

Yesterday I woke up feeling like I had eaten a big bowl of anxiety for breakfast. My stomach had a pit in it, my heart was racing, and my mind was scattered. "You will never change. You will always be a micromanaging control freak night owl."

When Archer was four days old and "sleeping" his second night at home I had the same icky feelings and frantically sprang from bed to check on him. My phone flashlight caught him yawning like a baby lion and peacefully turning his head to the side. He was fine. He was fine but I still heard the healthy serving of anxiety churn and grumble, "You are never going to be able to do this. Have you seen the world lately? Good luck. p.s. Your joints hate you."

As much as I have tried to replace that meal with organic, gluten-free Cocoa Flakes from Good Earth (on sale for $2.40 a box) I still feel it time and again, and when I feel it anything can scare me. "RE will be driving on I-15 in two years."

Others with a stomach like mine can sympathize there is little worse than fear and doubt. I found some words in Isaiah that coated my digestive track like pink Pepto:

As birds flying, so will the Lord of hosts defend Jerusalem; defending also he will deliver it; and passing over he will preserve it.

How often does a plane (a bird flying) pass over my house? At least a hundred times a day. I just never notice because I'm not paying attention. For as many planes crisscrossing to and fro directly over my head the Lord is passing over, defending, delivering, and preserving me. He is looking on every minute I'm awake eating that horrid cereal and he's on standby while I sleep. I simply need to notice. I need to look up.