Today is just one of those days. It’s the end of a difficult and transitional semester back from studying abroad. And I’ve reached the end of the line with school. I still have three papers to write, a week of classes to attend, and five finals to take, but my motivation is approaching nil. The funny thing is I love school. I love learning. None of my classes are boring me. I like the reading I have to do. The research I’m doing for my papers is honestly fascinating. So why am I lacking in motivation to get things done? Why am I losing myself by numbing my brain with Parks and Rec and Gilmore Girls? I am distracted and my heart is restless. I’ve got about a million and one thoughts scrambling around in my head competing for attention, and none of which actually have to do with the books around me, the outlines I have to edit, and the pages I have yet to write.

I am afraid. I am so afraid of failing the expectations of everyone, including my own expectations. I am afraid that I am not smart enough to get accepted to, much less work my way through, graduate school. I am afraid that the confidence of my professors, family, and friends is ill placed. I am afraid of not knowing how to be an adult. I am afraid of my selfishness. I am afraid of my pride. I am afraid of not being the friend I need to be. I am afraid of serving, and yet afraid of not serving enough. I am afraid of not meeting the goals I have for myself. I am afraid of not being charming enough, pretty enough, giving enough, holy enough, strong enough.

There are so many things I long to do, so many good habits I want to implement. Rationally, I understand that I don’t have to implement all of them overnight or wake up tomorrow ready to take on a graduate program. But my heart is cowering in fear.

Why? Why do we struggle with this anxiety?

I know that I have been given what I need to answer God’s call. I know that I need to worry about today’s troubles instead of tomorrow’s. And yet here I sit contemplating in horror how quickly my life could spiral away into disappointment, sorrow, and grief. Call me a melancholic.

Days like today are a reminder that I can’t do this alone. And that these thoughts only come when I think that I have to do so. This is a ramble, and it was cathartic.

So if you’re reading this, please pray for me. Know that I’m praying for you. Today is a day that I am so in desperate a need of the communion of saints, of the Church, of friends and family. Most of all, I am in desperate need of depending on Christ.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever, world without end, amen.


One thought on “Struggling.

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