I named it---WORRY. I confessed "it." I "laid" it at the cross.
I had a sleepless night. I must have picked "it" up---that propensity to worry.
Lists of "what if's" about self, family, friends and others whirred throughout the night.
Lists of "what if's" about self, family, friends and others whirred throughout the night.
At Benny's funeral the Baptist Hospice singer reminded me to take "it" back to the cross, as he crooned verse 3 from "It is Well with My Soul."
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
This time, I must have nailed "it" there.....
I slept like a baby last night.
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