My mind is like a computer with too many tabs open. It is stuck in “not responding” state with a video plug-in that won’t stop playing.
It is the knot in my chest that keeps my food stuck. My racing heartbeat wondering how I will complete this one task that I have done a hundred times over, without fail. It is having reoccurring dreams about oversleeping and missing major deadlines. And that fear of disappointment. The fear of not being exactly what you want in that very moment just as you want it.
Pray it away.
Lack, yes lack of faith. Devoid of anointing or the supernatural ability to power through your purpose without a whiff of anxiety. Greater is He that lives in me than he that lives in the word. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. and of course be anxious for nothing [JUST!!] make your requests known.
It’s 2am, do you know where your thoughts are?
I have to be up in 5 hours but I also have to rearrange my spice rack. I wonder what my neighbors thought of me that night I was digging up the soil so I could fix my mailbox. I can’t decide on my future tonight but I’ll be damned if my mailbox stays titled for another day.
A little to the left.
Everything is good; great even. All of the pieces are fitting and it feels right. Except that one piece. I followed all the instructions, well sort off. This is not what the picture on the box promised. No one else sees it but I keep bending my head. I see what no one else does. It’s not centered; maybe a little to the left.
So you think you can pull it off.
Somehow I made made it here. Said all of the right things, never missing any cues. Now its time to seat back and soak it all in. One glance around the table and I suddenly feel small in my clothes. Maybe its the air. Then the lump in my throat, how did I make it here? Are they all playing along waiting for me to stumble. A trophy for the girl who tried but simply couldn’t.
When the dust settles.
Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. One thing is for sure, only time will tell what is real and what is essentially an echo of a song that never was.