I climbed back into bed this morning, the ritual of questions littering my thoughts:
- How will I pay my bills this month?
- How much longer until I find a job?
- What, oh what, am I going to do?
Like a roller coaster set in motion, the questions continued.
But did I mention these questions hit once I climbed back into bed? The very bed that a neighbor graciously gave me last weekend. A queen-size mattress for this mama, a major upgrade from the daybed I’ve been sleeping on, one that has the space to let my little ones climb up with me and cuddle. Ah, sweet bliss.
The anxiety tried making its way in as I laid in this new bed.
The very one covered with someone else’s sheets since mine are tucked too far in the back of storage to retrieve.
The same bed with a loaner comforter for the same reason, topped with a plush, fuzzy blanket given to me by a sweet friend last Christmas.
On the bed. Under a roof, a roof provided in love. No family ties to me. No strings. Just love. Pure, sheer, unadulterated love.
I’d love to say its impossible to be anxious under the covers of love, but I can’t. What I do know is it is more challenging to keep fretting, for every question seemed to be answered with one of the layers covering me.
How am I going to make ends meet?
Did you notice this great bed you’re laying on? (Did I mention it’s a Sleep Number!! Boy, am I spoiled!!)
What if I can’t pay my bills?
What about those sheets? Where did those come from, Stacy?
Each “what if” was met with a little prompting to look around, viewing the glimpses of love sent from the One who loves me more than I can comprehend.
“How much more” echoed through my head, my mind’s short paraphrase of Matthew 6:26.
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26)
I listened as those small, winged animals serenaded me, breathed a little more deeply, and curled into my bed, yes, the very one representing generosity, provision and love.
No, I still don’t have any more answers tonight than I did this morning. I can’t say how the bills will be paid. I can’t guarantee where things will come from, and I have no idea when I’ll be offered a job. And while logic says I should be upside down trying to answer those questions, there is one that resonates even louder, beckoning in a way that makes me think that perhaps, just perhaps, if I grasped it’s answer a little better, all of the other questions would fall into place.
How much more valuable am I in His sight?