Yesterday, I worried. I worried so much I forgot to post the day’s insights to this blog, something I’ve developed a 271 day habit of doing.

I’m not usually a big worrier. But yesterday I found myself fretting about things I can’t control.

I’m not sure why worry got the better of me. Maybe because I spent much of the day reassuring people who were worrying themselves. Maybe because I worked extra late and missed my evening run. Or maybe simply because one of my contact lenses tore and I had to spend half the day half blind. (My eyesight is really bad.)

The Acute Effects of Worry

When I came home, I felt like only half solid matter. When Gary asked how my day went, his words registered only faintly, as if spoken from far away.

There’s lots of research about the effects of chronic worry. But this was quite sudden, yet noticeably disabling. Clearly my sympathetic nervous system and my parasympathetic nervous system had a fight — and the sympathetic won by KO.

I did what I could to recover. I meditated. I rode the exercise bike. I watched MLB Opening Day, Cubs v. Rangers. (That certainly didn’t help.) I finally went to sleep, slept a few hours, and woke up still worried.

Giving Up Worry for Lent

As I’ve mentioned before, Gary and I have been reading Give Up Worrying for Lent! for the last six weeks. Author Gary Zimak speaks directly to my doubt, my natural skepticism. And every time, after acknowledging those rational objections, he gently points back to prayer.

I’ve been praying daily for the last few weeks. This morning, both habitually and mindfully, I took my worry to my morning prayer session. I confessed my doubts, offered up my worries, and prayed for the peace that surpasses understanding.

I had planned to follow prayer with things that often help me to recalibrate — schedule planning, exercise, maybe a little more sleep since it’s a holiday. But when I got up from my prayer time, I noticed something surprising.

I wasn’t worried.