If that’s strength, then I’m as weak as a baby. Or I would be if babies ate chocolate, which I’m not sure if they could or should.

When it comes to chocolate, I have no willpower. Especially if it’s one of those king-size Hershey bars with just the chocolate and no almonds or other contaminants (as I call anything that interferes with the pure joy of chocolate).

I also have the willpower of a dead slug when it comes to chips and queso, but that’s really for another post on another day.

I am currently reading through Every Moment Holy Volume III: The Work of the People. It’s part of a series of liturgies for all the parts and moments that make up our lives. There’s something for planting a garden, going on a trip, celebrating birthdays, and all the other activities and occasions that fill all the days we are given.

I read one a day as my devotional. This particular volume has spoken deeply to me. One in particularly that hit home was entitled A Prayer for the Anxious Heart. Here it is:

“God, I confess that there are moments when I cannot sense you near, times when anxiety and frustration overwhelm, and I find no help or consolation. I wish that I dwelt in a state where my hope and my confidence were always rooted and certain, my thoughts unclouded. But it is not always so. 

Here I drag my heavy heart to see if you will meet me in my place of doubt and fear. I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief. For where else but to you will I go with my worries? You alone have the words of eternal life. 

This I know to be true, my Lord and my God: You are not angered by my worries and my fears, for they have often been the very things that lead me to press closer into you, seeking the comfort of your presence. 

In your presence, I can offer my anxieties knowing you are never threatened by them. 

They do not change your truth.

My doubts cannot unseat your promises.

You are a rock, Jesus.

You alone are strong enough to carry the weight of my troubled thoughts. 

O Lord, let these fears never compel me to hide my heart from you. Let them rather lead me to begin holy conversations with you, make them into invitations to be present with you. Let me despair of my own knowledge and control and instead seek your face, knowing that when I plead for security and for answers, what I most need is your presence.”

This is a bit of a throwback post. I wrote this one on August 26, 2021 about the tasty goodness of Chick-fil-A, where the chicken flows like wine and no matter how many chicken biscuits I eat there, they never lose their magic flavor.

I admit that I love me some Chick-fil-A. My reasons have very little to do with the personal beliefs of their owner or any of their employees. It’s their magical wonderful chicken that has some sort of addictive chemicals added to it to make me crave it constantly.

I know that if I ever go to an event where they’ve catered those trays of Chick-fil-A chicken nuggets, the night is going to be lit. I mean, it’s going to be a P-A-R-T-Y. I myself could eat at least my weight in those delectable nuggets. Especially if they come with the sauces.

During the summer, they always bring out the peach milkshakes. As sacrilegeous as it sounds, I think I prefer the peach milkshake over the chocolate, and I’m usually all about chocolate anything and everything. Also, they have this delightful concoction called a frosted lemonade which to me tastes like one of those lemon ice box pies blended into a shake. I think I’ve gained five pounds typing all this and thinking about all the food.

They have some of the best customer service at most of their restaurants. They’re known for it. Most other businesses would do well to emulate the Chick-fil-A model of customer service. And the fun part is getting the employees to say “my pleasure” as many times as possible in one visit.

If you are a fan, let me know what your favorite items from the menu are. I myself am partial to the Spicy Southwest salad with the creamy salsa dressing and the spicy deluxe chicken sandwich. As far as beverages go, I really like getting half unsweet tea, half lemonade. And it comes pre-blessed.

I remember I went through a bit of a professional dark night of the soul after I got downsized from my job in 2012. I remember thinking at some point during that season that I was essentially unemployable — that I was never ever going to find another job ever ever again.

Looking back, I can see that was fear talking. That was my perspective looking solely through the lens of anxiety. As much as I know in my head that the voice of fear lies, sometimes it’s hard to discount because that’s also the voice that speaks the loudest.

But volume doesn’t always mean veracity. Louder doesn’t make it more true any more than might makes right. I’m learning to pay attention to the right voice this time. I’m remembering that the voice that calmed the storm didn’t have to yell to get the attention of the wind and waves.

As easy as it is for me to type the words about placing faith over fear, it’s a bit more difficult to live it out in the real world of jobs being eliminated and the economy being in a slump. My default setting is worry. I don’t have to work at worrying, but I do have to make a conscious effort to seek peace.

But sometimes I need to remember that even thought I may fall into the category of ye of little faith like that disciple Peter, that little mustard seed of faith is all I need for God to step in and do amazing things.

It almost slipped by. Today would have been my first cat Lucy’s 24th birthday. She crossed the rainbow bridge on June 21, 2017, taking a little piece of my heart with her. I still think about that little stinker from time to time. I still miss her whenever pictures of her show up in my memories or on my timehop.

I was incredibly blessed to have this furry little angel for 17 years. On second thought, make that my furry little sometimes grumpy, sometimes sweet, sometimes ornery, sometimes nice angel. She had lots of personality. Some might say she had plenty of personalities (but I say most of them were nice).

I choose to remember the good parts of those 17 years and not as much that hard last week where I saw her decline so rapidly. A small part of me still wonders if I could have done something differently to save her, but I’m pretty sure it was her time to go. She had a full life, or I suppose she used up all nine of her lives well.

I’m thankful for Peanut, who was never meant to be a replacement but more of another recipient for all the love I still had left inside. I’ll never forget how as a little kitten, Peanut picked me and chose me to be her furrever human.

But on this day, I honor the memory of a special cat. Very few will ever have a cat who was as loyal as she was. I’ll never forget how she waited by the front door every afternoon for me to come home from work. That was a blessing.

She was a blessing, so on this special day, I still say, “Thanks, Lucy! You were the best!”