What do you believe in the light?

Many thoughts and ideas jockeying for position this week. Among them:

* What does heartburn feel like?
* What do you say to people who don't believe in God?
* When do tennis lessons start?
* How do you get a friend to seek counseling help?
* What's the difference in feeling between a sinus headache, allergies, and a brain tumor?
* What if my parents die in a freak accident while traveling abroad?
* Am I ready to have kids?
* Is throwing leftover apple pie in the trash an act of courage or stupidity?
* Where do we really go when we die?
* Did I accidentally inhale a piece of pasta last week?
* Am I a writer poser?
* Have I turned into a hypochondriac?
* What do dreams about Frasier characters mean?

It's enough to keep you awake. Or distracted. Or worried. Or all of the above. Which I am.

So for the space of one blog post, I'm going to put these thoughts and ruminate on these lyrics --
[H]old on to what you believe in the light
When the darkness has robbed you of all your sight

Because somewhere between healthy insight and harmful obsessing, I took a wrong turn and ended up in pitch-black Agitaville (sans heartburn medication). Time to head back toward the light -- even if it doesn't come into view for a bit.

Prayer #176: Worries and Warts

How do you know when your logic has come full circular? When you're still at war, not peace? When you missed the exit for arrival at your conclusion?

I for one don't know. If I did, I wouldn't have turned my poor brain into a worry stone.

God of perspective, help my puny mind rest from wrestling with mystery. Direct it instead on solving the solvable.

Then rub off the soot that clouds the once-clear glass on my lantern. Shine it instead on a path worth following.

In short, keep me from worrying myself so smooth I slip away for good.