When fear strikes

It is a chilly, rainy day here in Chicago.  I am at home, using my only sick day, taking long naps interrupted by comically urgent hustles to the bathroom.  Josh left for a trip last night.  I have spent evenings away from him before, but last night was different, stark, restless.  I laid in the dark for hours before finally dozing off around four o'clock.  A night like that will make you feel pretty pathetic.  Something about that empty bed knotted anxiety inside me, and I was beleaguered by the realization that, if this arrangement were not temporary, and Josh never came back, I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't go on alone.

Last night was a brutal reminder of how easily I succumb to fear.  I battle a dark distrust of my God, a paralyzing anxiety that He will rip Josh from my life at any time, leaving me alone with a gaping emptiness.  If I lost him, would I cling to my God, or curse His name?  Would I press on, or would I crumble to pieces in an empty bed?

When the world comes crashing down around my feet

And I can't see ten feet in front of me

Jesus, I know that You are strong when I am weak

So please help me allow You to be my everything

No matter what this day will bring, I will lift my hands and sing

Oh, be my everything

I'll make my life an offering, in You alone I believe

Oh, be my everything

- Everything by Telecast

Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief.