Monday, February 29, 2016

The raucous mob outside the door make it difficult to sleep.  In the darkness, I can see their threatening faces pressed against the window and hear their incessant banging on the door, clamoring for admittance. I know their names. We've met before.

      Racing Heart.  Anxiety.


“Be still my soul.”

            Fear of the Known.  Pain.  

“Thy God doth undertake to guide the future as He has the past.” 

                     Fear of the Unknown.      Helplessness.
                           Impatience.

“In every change, He constant will remain.”

        Hopelessness.  Worry.

“Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake. Be still my soul.”

      Upheaval.   Upended Plans.   Unpredictability.  
                         Disappointment.   Despair.

They push with all their might, impatiently anticipating the slightest turn of the doorknob so they can flood in like a tsunami.  

“Be still my soul. The waves and winds still know His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.”