First, I'm forced awake by my cat at about 4:20 or so who really didn't want to have anything to do with me once I actually got up. I paced nervously around the apartment wondering why I was so anxious. I went back to bed and got up in time for Church. Most times if I can get a little sleep after a panic attack, I'm fine. Not this time. My chest hurt. I had trouble swallowing. My breath was heavy. Thoughts of all kinds RACED through my mind to the point where I could barely think straight. All I knew were 2 things: I did NOT want to go to Church, and I HAD to go to Church.
Praise God that I went. Did I feel like suddenly everything was all better? No. In fact, it feels as though we are at the beginning of a testing period that's potentially going to be brutal. But I can't worry about that. All I know is that however small it may seem to the world, God shared a victory with me today. It may not be fun or glorious or pretty, but I know that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.