Anxiety

A bad guy was coming for me
     I was certain
To sneak in through my bedroom window in the darkness
     I was certain
And he’d stab me in the back with a big kitchen knife
     I was certain
And I couldn’t sleep at night for months and months at ten years old

My mother would lie next to me
     She tried so hard
She’d pray for me and reassure me
     She tried so hard
But I could tell she was frustrated and worn out from the drama
     Still she tried so hard
To explain to the brain of a ten year old how our beautiful minds can fool us
And she would say, “You don’t have to sleep, but try to rest.”

And still today, with every tiny scratch or bump
     I feel certain
That deep, rare infection will take hold
     I feel certain
That time and talent will run out on me
     I feel painfully certain
And it wakes me cold for days on end, yes, even now in my middle age

But a Kind Brother witnesses my weariness
     And He intercedes
My Priest prays for me as He commiserates
     And He intercedes
I worry that He will tire of me, of my drama
     And still He intercedes before the Almighty One, 

Weaving the Comforter in and out of my nightly woes
And I hear Him say, “I won’t leave you. Try to rest.”