Fighting Invisible Enemies

Thankfully, these times when burdens almost cause my shoulders to meet in the middle of my chest and my neck seems to disappear altogether; when I feel like I'm teetering, overwrought, on the edge of a cliff, afraid to cough or sneeze, these burdens come infrequently.

What do I do? What can I do? What ought I do? Do I remember the "God is love" maxim? Can I disappear within a love, frankly, I can neither feel nor see, taste, or touch? How do I know He is there? Do I grope in the darkness, unable to get a sense of where walls and doors may be, or whether I'm walking into even greater uncertainty?

What if my fertile imagination has been working overtime and things aren't as bad, as dismal, as they seem? What if this time mirrors the mirages I used to "see" when I'd drive early on a Saturday morning from Las Vegas to Los Angeles? As the sun rose and shone on the highway I'd see a pool of water in the distance.  Except I never drove through it because the pool kept moving away, always a few yards ahead. 

But what if this time, all of it is, well,  real? How do I stop the discordant symphony of fantasy and fears that clashes, crashes, and terrorizes? Because this time, it's not just my imagination running away from me?

Well, praise be to the One who can do exceedingly and abundantly above all I can ask or think, and who answers long before the request speaks, the realization smacks me in the face.  God's got this! It's within His jurisdiction and authority. As the "Beginning" and the "End," His promises carry portent.  How did managing, fixing, and controlling life's foibles and frailties wend their way into my job description? For heaven's sake, they're way above my pay grade! 

Obviously, my problem-solving skills get shaky much of the time.  Too often, indecision haunts my every step.  Second-guessing paralyzes and thoughts of failure dog each step I take.  I'm better at asking than answering.  What do I do? What can I do? What ought I do? "Go with what you know," reflects time-worn advice. I examine what I've learned from past experiences, then turn to Somebody bigger and stronger; that's what I do.  

I listen to the Booth Brothers sing,

"Who made the mountains, who made the trees
Who made the rivers flow to the sea?
And who sends the rain when the earth is dry
Somebody bigger than you and I."

Hmmm.  The lyrics change my perspective from abject pessimism to possibilities.  Then what? My grandmother, aka "Mama, would advise, "Get up off your 'rusty-dusty' and do something!"  Never one to mope, Mama often regaled us with stories of working "sun up to sun down" with maybe a short break in between.  She carried no memories of "convenience foods" or two-week vacations.  "You gotta make it happen, Baby! It's up to you!" littered her "discussions" that sounded more like monologues to us.  And you gotta pray, Sweetheart, and pray like you mean it! 

"When I am weary filled with despair
Who gives me the courage to go from there?
And who gives me faith that will never die?
Somebody bigger than you and I."