When I was little my mom gave me a book in my Easter basket called Wemberly Worried. Wemberly is the name of a sweet, young mouse who worries about everything. She worries that she’ll wear the same costume on Halloween as the rest of her friends. She worries that the tree in the yard will fall or that her new school will smell bad. All of Wemberly’s worries were so relatable to me. She was my soul sister and to be honest, that book could have been my memoir. My dear mother will still bring up our similarities.

I feel like if there was an adult version of Wemberly Worried it would just be me currently. Worried about work, worried about friendships, worried that I am missing out on something, worried that I am not doing enough or being enough for the people around me. Worried my health will worsen or I’ll never get married, have kids, or buy a house. Just worried.

Sometimes the level of anxiety that I feel brings me to my knees and other times it brings me to feel so much frustration with God. My anxiety of things going wrong is not unwarranted. The Lord has allowed the worst case scenario to happen in my life many times. He’s allowed me to walk roads and be broken in ways that I feared the most. I watched Him let my anxieties be accurate, so how am I to cope when I know that even if I ask with all my might, He may still allow it? How am I to be comforted? How can I look at the uncertainty of this season and not be scared to death?

…

As I sit outside in my front yard writing this, the air is getting cooler, leaves are slowly falling, and the sun is setting a little earlier than the day before. Change is happening. The winter is coming, but here, as things begin to change to prepare for the cold, it’s so beautiful. The trees are stunning and the mums are blooming. Warm colors are everywhere, and the animals are preparing their homes for what is to come. Each pecan the squirrels grab from my neighbor’s yard is provided for them by one who is always preparing us for what is to come. Every sunset, every leaf that falls, every star that slowly gets brighter as the night gets darker and colder, are proof that even as change occurs, there is beauty to cling to. There’s so much intentionality in each season.

I think that’s why I love sunsets so much and looking at the stars at night. Those are the constants. The physical evidence of change occurring but still within control. I count on the constellations that are visible changing as the winter approaches, and I know the sun will set again tomorrow no matter how hellish today was. And if I know these things to be true, I must also know that the One who has those things within His grasps has me too. Even if I don’t fully feel it sometimes. He’s there. Constant in the change. Come what may, He’s there with you too.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, I’m with you. Go look at the sky, take a deep breath, and even if you watch them from your bed or hooked up to a heart monitor (been there), even hell itself cannot keep creation from proclaiming His presence. He is here. Things are changing but He is constant. Cling to that friends.

Cling to Him.

Night

by Grace Noll Crowell

“Thank God for night-with its great gift of sleep-More wonderful than all His gifts to men!

For stars that walk the dream-ways and that keep Their wide-eyed watch until dawn breaks again;

Thank God for blessed silence down the land,

More soothing than the drip of summer rain;

For darkness-soft and cool as some dear hand

Laid on a forehead feverish with pain.

Oh, only those who carry sleepless scars

Can know how sweet sleep is that comes at last,

And only the eyes that have looked long at stars

Have learned night's secret as it marches past;

Have learned to know how quiet God must keep

To guide an earth through stars—that men may sleep.”