![Can I Keep Worry From Destroying My Peace? [Episode 7] jpg](https://www.jenniferrothschild.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/10_25_2018_Pod_7_CanIKeepWorry_Oct.jpg)
“What is that on your arm?” gasped Kim, my faithful nail tech for the past ten years. “I’ve never seen it before. You need to get that looked at!”
I had no idea what Kim was talking about, so I asked.
“A mole. Feel it!” she said, as she took my free hand and dragged my finger across the top of a tiny, bumpy mass. “It’s irregular in shape. I know that isn’t good.”
I overheard the World’s Most Patient Mom shopping with her two boys.
The little troop was there to get pillows for their bunk beds. There are only about 50,000 pillows in that particular home store, so selecting just two was pretty ambitious.
“Mommy, the ball! I want the ball! The ball!” I listened as one of the boys called out. “Get the ball! The ball … no, not that one! The owange basketball! The fuzzy wound piwwow…”
Well, you get the idea.
As I stood there in the guest room, I panicked.
Even though I’d turned on both dresser lamps, I couldn’t detect any light. Usually, I could recognize at least a little light with my left eye.
I placed my hand on one of the bulbs to make sure it was working. It was warm. If the lamp was on, the problem wasn’t the light bulb.
My heart sank when it hit me.
This could only mean one thing—the few fragments of retina I once had in my left eye were now gone. It’s not like there was real vision there, to begin with, but at least it wasn’t the vast blackness of nothing at all.
What would happen if you just got still? Would the world as you know it fall apart? Would you?
Sometimes we stay busy to outrun our fear of failure or keep us distracted from thinking. Sometimes, when we are overwhelmed by sorrow or stress, we just long to fix something, clean something … you know, do something!
My hand was on the door handle, ready to open the stall and leave the bathroom. But then I heard familiar voices and stood perfectly still. The Sunday worship service was about to start, and two women from the church were standing at the sink talking about our pastor while washing their hands. They thought they were alone. Their comments about him were small and mean. They took turns criticizing the pastor’s sermon, his tie, and even his hair. I was so angry I could barely breathe.
That pastor? He was my dad.
Do you need comfort from God? Is there somebody in your life who needs comfort?
I sure did.
Last fall, I was crumbling on the inside. I didn’t feel strong at all. I traveled every weekend, and in between, I flew to Florida to be with my dad who was very sick. One Sunday morning, Phil and I headed to the airport, for probably the ninth week in a row. I had flown home the night before from Virginia super late and I was tired on Sunday morning. But, I tried to think of one good thing to focus on because I was so discouraged and felt so empty, alone and weak. “Heroes coffee!” I decided I would get a cup when I got to the airport.
