Worry

Sometimes I wake up, shortly after falling asleep, with my heart beating so fast I am convinced the entire earth is tumbling down. I lay on my fingers to still the shaking and think of all the horrible ways to die. It seems twisted that the only way I can calm myself after these nighttime horrors is to think of all the horrible ways to live. My fear of death or loss or loneliness or pain does nothing for tomorrow. It only empties today of its strength, as Corrie ten Boom says. And so I vow, again, to appreciate the slow, sleepy breath of my husband by my side, the colors that fill our room, the soft sound of rain, the smell of our pillows, and that violent beating of my heart that reminds me I love my life.