grief · Life · loss · Poetry · Self confidence · Self-love · Thoughts · Words

Most Days

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Most days I’m sitting idle at the intersection of hope and despair.

Either it is all going to work out or I will completely fail.

There seems to be no gray area.

It’s all or nothing.

Most days I’m wishing away the moments, thinking about the way things could be, the way they should be.

Regretting the past and all the mistakes I can’t erase.

It seems I journey back to the days of long ago more than I plan for the days ahead.

Most days I feel like I’m running around in circles.

The same endless day happening over and over.

Rinse, wash, repeat.

Most days I’m just trying to get through the day without getting lost in time.

I wake up in the morning and it’s as though my day has been fast-forwarded to night’s darkness in the blink of an eye.

I long to feel truly alive and in the present.

To feel this sense of purpose that everyone talks about.

To have a purpose.

But most days, I’m just existing.

Breathing my way through another twenty-four hours.

Faith · God · Happiness · Life · Religion · Words

Matthew 6:34

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One of my favorite bible verses is Matthew 6:34 which states “ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

I actually have this written down and placed on my refrigerator, a magnet holding it securely in place. A daily reminder to not let worry tug at my soul and take up space in my day.

The thing is, even though the note has been hanging on my refrigerator door and I do read it, albeit not daily as I had planned, worry still seems to float around in my mind and at times overwhelm me.

I want so badly to listen to these words of wisdom that have been graciously handed down and truly disable all worries I have about the here and now. But the question is how? How can you stop worrying about tomorrow?

Matthew sure had it right when he said that “each day has enough trouble of its own”. Don’t we all face daily struggles and challenges? Each day bringing with it something new, whether a small worry or a big one?

Then it occurred me, the most important words of this verse, to me, are “for tomorrow will worry about itself”. It is a stark reminder that tomorrow isn’t promised to any one of us so why spend precious minutes worrying about it? Tomorrow will be different from today in many ways and who knows what will unfold then. 

 I believe Matthew is telling us to live for the now. To be present and alive. To put aside the worries we have for the future and do what we can with today. To not let worry linger in the forefront of our minds and let minutes and hours of this day go by, wasted.

You see worry robs us of presence. Worry steals our joy. Worry is a thief. 

This beautiful verse serves as a reminder that God wants us to enjoy today and be fully conscious in everything we do. He doesn’t want worry to paralyze us so much so, that we hold our breaths as we wait for things to fall apart. He didn’t create us to spend our time in a constant state of stress, waiting and wondering. He created us to fully experience His earth. To see, feel, touch and smell the world around us and bathe in its beauty. 

I don’t want to worry away this time I have today with my husband and my kids, my worry taking me away from them. I don’t want to take advantage of a single moment by poisoning it with anguish. I want to take Matthew’s advice to heart and tuck worry aside, at least starting with the small worries I hold on to. I want to tuck it into the folds of my inner being where it will always be with me.  

Like the magnet that holds my handwritten note to the refrigerator door, I want these words to stay hung up in my heart, where they will stay, permanently etched.

 

 

 

Faith · God · grief · Life · Religion · Words

In the quiet

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I sat in that cold, bare room waiting for answers. I sought out comfort as I looked around but all that I saw were pale yellow walls and old magazine covers. No cheery pictures hung to lift my spirits. No pretty decorations adorned the counters. Just a burgundy colored chair, a metal sink and the doctors tattered stool. In the silence I sat and waited. 

I could feel my heart beating against my ribs as I anticipated that knock at the door. That sound that would either signal the beginning of a difficult journey or a relief of sorts.

I prayed to God that he would be present with me in this scary moment because I felt so alone and lost. I asked him to give me strength and hope. I wanted so badly for my life to stay the same so that I could go home and start living the way that He intended me to. I made promises to myself and asked him for more chances. 

My hands clasped together I looked down at the white, marred floor, my brown boots dangling just above them, and bowed my head uncertain of everything, except for the fact that He is here, unseen and unheard but felt. He is always here, especially in dark moments like this, when He is needed the most.  

In the quiet I sit, prayer my only relief.

After what seems like hours, the knock sounds and the door is quickly opened to the doctor’s smiling face and I exhale that sharp force of breathe that I’d been holding because I somehow know that I’m going to be okay….no matter what. I’m going to be okay.