I woke up this morning like most mornings in this current season. They don’t come as often as they once did, but they still arrive when I’m least expecting it.
Imagine a train in the far distance. You can’t see it, but you can slowly hear it coming. That train is my thoughts, my breath, my heartbeat, my anxiety. As I’m in a deep sleep, I can hear the train’s low howling as it approaches. It isn’t until it draws closer to me at a rapid speed, that I suddenly wake up, gasping for air like I was underwater. With heavy breathing, I become conscious to the world.
I open my eyes, sit up, reach over to take my depression medicine, my anxiety medicine, and then I tell Siri to play worship music. I then start writing what I’m currently thankful for, pickup the book that I’m currently reading, and slowly, the train has passed, my heart has calmed, and the soothing songs continue to whisper to me. This all happens in a ten minute timespan, and now, all is well again.
Today is Easter. Pastor Brandon calls it our Super Bowl. I’m putting on my Super Bowl jersey as we speak (a black button down). My mom, my mom’s boyfriend, my brother, my sister, my brother, his fiancé, and their two kids (Bentley and Petal), will be attending this Super Bowl with us. I’m headed there now, to open up the cafe, start the coffee, and drink some myself.
The train has passed, and as I reflect on how my morning went from a sudden loudness to an unexplainable peace, all I can do, is be thankful.