Tuesday, August 7, 2018

Dear God, why do I fear so? Worry about the near and far all at once assail me. I fret over minor arrangements and activities in this day. At the same time, my thinking casts forward toward tomorrow and after – when I fear calamity will befall. I panic, bit by bit, thought by thought.

Lord, help me. I am so small in the face of these terrors. I know when I face them squarely that all will be well, but this feels like simply an intellectual exercise, the whistling of a child in the dark.

Worry is tangible, present. Sitting here with me.

Lord, displace my fears. Occupy my mind and hands, turn my attention to what is needful in the day. I beg of you: let these worries lift. Take them.

(Letter #1305)