The Lord is my deliverer.


“Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger
or discipline me in your wrath.
Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;
heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.
My soul is in deep anguish.
How long, Lord, how long?
Turn, Lord, and deliver me;
save me because of your unfailing love.
Among the dead no one proclaims your name.
Who praises you from the grave?
I am worn out from my groaning.
All night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
My eyes grow weak with sorrow;
they fail because of all my foes.
Away from me, all you who do evil,
for the Lord has heard my weeping.
The Lord has heard my cry for mercy;
the Lord accepts my prayer.
All my enemies will be overwhelmed with shame and anguish;
they will turn back and suddenly be put to shame.”

Psalm 6

The Lord knows me. He knows all that I am feeling. I know that he will deliver me as he always has. I trust in him. I know that he hears me when I call out to Him.

I continue to be blown away by my God.


Jealousy and friendships


Loneliness and anxiety seem to go hand in hand.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t know what I know. But, then again, I am glad to know what I do. It’s hard to feel like you’re losing a friend. It’s even harder to feel like you’re losing two. Then, you throw some good old fashioned hate in there from an acquaintance and you have loneliness and a healthy dose of anxiety.

I still love them. That’s the hardest part I think. To love someone who is going behind your back to make one of your closest friends not want to spend time with you. That hurts. That hurts a lot.

I hate to sit alone feeling like I can’t call them to hang out or to see what they are up to. I hate feeling like a burden, but I do. I hate wondering if I am valued as a friend.

Just when I think I should say something. She makes me feel valued again. We hang out, and everything feels back to normal. And, maybe it is. Maybe this has all been blown out of proportion by me. But, recent happenings suggest otherwise.

She never has time for me anymore. But, for them, she does. And, now, I am jealous. It’s a vicious cycle, jealousy is. It causes a heaping mound of pain for all who are involved. Especially when she swears that nothing has changed. Especially when she is my closest friend. Especially when I need her. Especially when she’s the only one who knows.

But, here I am jealous, anxious, alone, and hurt.

Today I am grateful.


There’s nothing quite like a great friend.

One who listens and understands and never judges. One you can share your life with. One you can talk about Jesus with.

I needed today. I needed to be heard, and I was. I needed to listen, and I did. I needed great conversation over coffee at our favorite little coffee shop, and I got it. Then, I needed to just be with my friend.

It’s strange how simply being with that friend that knows you the best can turn things around and point you back to Jesus. You should be jealous of my friend. She always has great perspective and always knows exactly what to say, even though she doesn’t think that she does. She also knows when to say nothing at all. Most importantly, she knows that what I really need is to focus back on Jesus.

This anxiety is not going to get the best of me. I am going to figure this thing out with the help of a sweet friend, a counselor, and, most importantly, Jesus.

I’m not saying this is easy, and I’m not saying that I escaped from anxiety today because I didn’t. It was there, but my friend was there to bring be back down to earth, and Jesus is always there, even when I ignore him.

Today I am grateful.

Listening vs. Being heard


I am a listener.

It is certainly one of my gifts. I have learned over the years that people tend to talk if you are simply willing to listen. I have heard stories of triumph and defeat, of depression and joy, of redemption and fear. I have heard it all. I have talked more than one person out of suicide. I have let people cry until they couldn’t any longer. I am a listener. That is who I am.

I love listening. How else would I learn? How else would I get to know someone? I love to show them that I care. It’s easy, and I have advice to offer. I have been through a great deal in my short life, and I have gained some wisdom from it which I will gladly share if it spares someone the same pain.

Today I needed to be heard.

Instead, I listened. I listened to her talk endlessly. I nodded and smiled and thanked her at the end. Isn’t her job to listen? I needed to tell her what was going on. I needed her to understand. She didn’t. She thinks I’m an easy fix. I’m not. There’s a lot going on here, but she has no idea. She may never know.

I just wanted someone to finally understand. She doesn’t yet, but she thinks she does. She didn’t even ask about the most life changing event of my life. She missed the big picture. All because she failed to listen.

Today I listened. Yet again, I listened.

Take this from me.


That’s all I ask.

I ask my Father to take this from me. To replace anxiety with the peace of his spirit. I ask to be at rest, at peace, or even just to be still.

Not that I don’t want to be active in life, but that my soul would be at peace with who the Lord is and what that means for my life. How quickly anxiety steals this peace from me. It comes in and replaces that peace with fear and trembling. Fear of the future and uncontrollable trembling.

She says its as simple as stopping, breathing deeply, and allowing the spirit to come in and overtake the anxiety. I’m glad she thinks it’s simple. I’m not so sure. I think this could take a while. It could be a process. This is no longer just about school. It’s about friendships, family, money, traveling, availability, and keeping promises. School is certainly still a part of it, but it’s not all anymore.

Anxiety has grown, and it touches almost every part of my life. I wish I could help it, but I can’t. I can’t make it stop or figure out why it starts. She says its weird not to know what triggers it. I agree. This is certainly weird for me, and I guess for her too.

I wish I could fix this. I wish the Lord would fix this.

Tomorrow is a new beginning.



I am terrified and have no one to tell. That’s the weird thing about anxiety. You know it’s real, but you can’t explain it quite right to anyone else. Even the person you trust the most. You can try to tell them all day if you want, but they’re going to offer you advice that you’ve already tried or tell you something that you know to be true. You know they mean well and love you. They just can’t help the way they want to or the way you need them to. Anxiety isn’t logical.

Anxiety doesn’t take into account what it will do to your life. It makes you panicky about things that you used to be confident in. It’ll make you long for your mother. It’ll make you want so badly for someone to understand, but they can’t. It’ll make you doubt your abilities and will make you cry and overreact to everything. It’ll make you irrational. 

That’s hard when you’re the one they come to for advice. For a listening ear. For a shoulder to cry on. They need you and you need them. It’s just different because I can understand what they say to me and can offer advice or a ear or a shoulder. They can’t help me. Luckily I have listening ears and willing shoulders, but no advice. No understanding. No validation. No relief.

So, tomorrow I start counseling. It’s a strange feeling. One of fear and of excitement and of hope. A lot of hope.

Hope that they can help me. Hope that my life can get back to normal. Hope that somehow this anxiety will go away. All I know is that this can’t make it worse.

Here’s to tomorrow and a new beginning, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.