Why is it that the “What If’s” wait until bedtime to show up? I sit in my chair and fall asleep watching t.v. I wake up to find I’ve missed the most important last few minutes of the show and now I don’t know if he did it or not or if he was convicted if he did it. So I drag myself to bed and IMMEDIATELY the “What If’s” join me in the bed.
“What if someone hurts one of my grandsons?”
“What if one of my family members gets arrested?”
“What if someone steals the volleyball goal or basketball goal that we borrowed from the church?”
“What if someone breaks into our home?”
“What if one of my kids falls down the well at my mother’s house, which is 200 miles away in another part of the state?” –wait, that was the “what if'” from 25 years ago. What are you doing in my head? Get out!
“What if , what if, what if…?” It finally gets so crowded in the bed with all the “what if’s” wiggling around that I have to get up.
Okay, now I’m awake. So what to do?
-Check my email.
-Read a chapter in my book.
-Plan an agenda for the meeting tomorrow night with my VBS workers.
-Consider who might be gifted enough to handle our nursery for the upcoming year.
-Stare at the room I’m creating for my crafting adventures, and rearrange it in my head a hundred times or so–for maximum efficiency, you see.
-Pray for my grandboys, my kids, my precious husband. (should have done that first!)
-Place that order for Bible study books for the youth group.
-I could iron a shirt or two… Nah. I’d rather wrestle with the “what if’s” than iron.
Listen to music. Headphones on. “Oh, My Soul,” by the David Crowder Band, soothes my wrestling, restless soul. Excuse me while I close my eyes for a moment to worship. Be right back.
“Ever faithful, ever true, You are known, You never let go.
Oh my soul overflows, Oh what love, Oh what love…Oh my soul fills with hope… Perfect love that never lets go.”
You mean, seriously, I don’t have to worry about the “what if’s”? And all that other stuff, You’ve got that under control, as well? Forgive me, Papa, for not remembering that. The guardian/protector in me still assumes I have to fix it all alone. I guess since You have it all under control, I can get back to bed, huh?
First, I have to listen to Mahalia Jackson sing His Eye Is on the Sparrow.
Now I believe I’ll be able to sleep. Good night, friends.