Filled to the brim with anxiety, my breath short, and in the words of sixpence "my body as tense as a cat's when it stalks it's prey," I repeat the truth:
You will provide. You have already. You place great worth on me. You love me deeply. You will provide. You will provide. You will provide. You are good.
My breathing stabilizes, my body begins to relax, because this is truth. I need not be so ridden with worry, brought on by silliness, though rooted like as an invasive weed which will continue to return, until every bit of the root has been removed.
Repeating truth back to Christ -to myself, to those around me and, casting aside what is evil, I press on.
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