one of those mornings

It's one of those mornings. 

It's one of those mornings where worry and anxiety have consumed me. Not anxiety like worry, but anxiety like I-have-to-take-medicine-for-you anxiety. 

It's one of those mornings that I've had to deal with my demons, including anxiety.

It's one of those mornings where I hear the call to get on my knees, yet my pride wants to hold onto anger instead. 

It's one of those mornings where my shower consisted of tears, in surrendering (yet again, because surrender is a continuation) to the God who holds everything in His hands. 

If you could see me, you'd probably laugh. I've got the sunlight pouring in, but because the snow and ice are still here, looking outside makes me squint, but I need the sun for my anxiety, so the blinds stay open and the sensitive blue eyed girl continues to squint. In addition to sunlight, I've got this blue-box-desk-light on, that flips the neurons in my brain. That's right, anxiety is a chemical imbalance, people. I'm drinking coffee, with caffeine, which is a no-no for anxiety. But I've already chugged gallons of water, and tea didn't help either. Sometimes just cradling the warm mug helps. 

Satan continues his bombardment. The lies ring in my head repeatedly- I should have this figured out by now. You should just move home with your parents. You'll never be more than your mother's caretaker. My strange story will never help anyone. I'll never save enough money for college, so why bother trying. 

My worry comes from my wanting. I crave, I desire, I long for life to go the way I envision it, just once in my life. I want to know what is next. I want to decide what's next. I want to snap my fingers and have life line up perfectly before my eyes. I want to be settled and secure and someone's only one. I want to know I'm making a difference for Jesus, that what I do and say has significance. 

I want control. 

I'm tired of over-sleeping and over-spending and over-analyzing and over-eating. I'm tired of ignoring the Lord's call, His insistent plea, that I write. I'm tired of wishing for change and sitting on my rear, not doing anything about it. 

I'm tired. It's one of those mornings. 

In the midst of all that, the word gratitude comes, floating to me in the softest of whispers. A breath almost, so soft I strain to hear it. Gratitude, longing to be grasped and expanded upon. 

I'm thankful for the occasional anxiety attacks that send me to my knees. 

I'm thankful for the days with no job to be at, so I can get off my butt and write. 

I'm thankful for my little home, cozy and beckoning, that reminds me I have been abundantly provided for.   

I'm thankful for community, that calls me out and lifts me up. 
I'm thankful for my family, as weird and unique as we are. 

I'm thankful for the Lord's constant presence that has yet to give up on me. 

I'm thankful for the overwhelming amount of promises and truths found in His word. 

I'm thankful for the material things- my favorite mug, my journal, fun pens, my Bible, blankets, a heater that warms, a car that runs, speakers that carry music aloud. 

I'm thankful for each breath I can take and each step I can take. 

I'm thankful for a Savior to chase. 

"This life, this love, was always meant to be a wild, crazy adventure discovering the thrill and rush; the more of You I seek, the more it leaves me wanting Your everything." (my song for the year, Bethel Music's Chasing You)

And again, I let go and throw my future into the hands that already hold it. Because I surrender to my need for Jesus. He is here. Hallelujah. 

xx, Bethany