train ride

it's four a.m. and my mind is a track carrying box-cars full of worry. do not be anxious, my God tells me. focus on focusing your thoughts, my husband adds as he curls me up into a ball and quietly snores in my ear.

you're the conductor, and i'm the caboose. we're about to derail, i feel. where will you stay? your young, quiet feet patter around our house, i cannot sleep knowing you have no one but me. why me? who's going to minister to my needs? i am selfish at so late an hour, water streaming down my face in tired torments. do not be anxious, my God reminds me, gently stroking my brain into dull submission and slumber. He assumes your position as conductor. and you keep pitter pattering through life, one lonely day at a time.