I’m writing this in the midst of a panic attack or whatever it is that’s afflicting me now.

Be strong and courageous.

There is so much fear consuming me at the moment.

[Your will be done. Your will be done. Your will be done. I trust You]

My chest is really bothering me nowadays. A year ago the doctors said it was stress. Makes sense. I am so stressed out it makes total sense. What scares me is when I feel my chest fill up at night; it feels so hard like a stone within me; I am almost certain that it will pop. The feeling extends to my arm; the more I try to rub the pain away, the more it burns.

As I’m hyperventilating, shaking, sobbing in the confines of my room, I seek out the Lord.

He is here. I just have to believe it.

After my morning nap, I come to the Lord in prayer, sleepy and unfeeling. Still weary after eight hours of sleep and a two hour nap.

At the end, I try to listen for Him again. I ask Him to speak to me, to show me His glory.

I seek Your face

While I am sitting cross legged on the floor, trying to concentrate on His voice, I see a picture of myself sitting on the floor in the dark. Everywhere is dark except where there’s a yellow throne. A King dressed in yellow robes and drapes sits on it. I sit in front of it, a little ways off. The light from the throne barely reaches me. Then, He gets up and starts to walk over to me and suddenly I think to change my posture; I unfold my legs and rest on my knees.

He comes closer and even though I feel silly and strange, I put my head down on the floor and bow. I am suddenly afraid to lift my head. When He reaches me, I hear it.

“Get up.”

I raise my head, return to my kneeling position. He is standing in front of me, I don’t see His face, His robes are large and long, He holds a scepter in His right hand.

The picture changes; I don’t see how I get up but suddenly I am upright, His arms around me. He is tall (the top of my head comes to His chest), His robes engulf me, I am just a little child in His embrace. I peer back behind Him and see the throne. Yellow, maybe it was golden, shining with light. The light barely reaches us. Everywhere else is still dark.

I wait a little longer, I try to think of something else, I wonder if I am imagining all of this on my own. I ask Him if He has anything to say to me. No answer and I am about to stop listening when suddenly I look at the throne again.

I realize it is empty.

[He left His throne to come to me]

The Lord goes with me; He hears me when I call Him.

Ask Him, “Come, Lord, come,” and surely He will.

I am okay now. I have nothing to fear.

Surely, He is here. I just need to believe it.