11/01/2025
When I’m afraid of another diagnosis, let peace reach me before panic does. When the what-ifs start to spiral and my mind fills with worst-case scenarios, please meet me there—with calm, not fear. I don’t need all the answers right now; I just need to feel Your presence before my thoughts race too far ahead. Wrap me in the kind of peace that doesn’t wait for good news, but comes simply because You are near.
You know the fear that grips my chest, the memories that echo every time I hear the word test, result, or doctor. You know the way my heart tenses before I even hear what’s next. Please, God, help me not to live in dread of the unknown. Teach me to remember that no matter what I’m told, no matter what comes, You’ll face it with me. You’ve never once let me walk through pain alone, and You won’t start now.
Please slow my heartbeat when the waiting feels unbearable. Still my thoughts when they start to drift toward fear. Help me take this one breath at a time, one moment at a time, trusting that You already know what I don’t. When I can’t stop imagining the worst, remind me that imagining You—faithful, constant, loving—is far more powerful than imagining the fear.
God, when I’m tempted to let anxiety write the story, remind me that You are the Author. You hold the beginning, the middle, and the end—and nothing surprises You. You’ve seen every outcome, every path, every possibility, and still You whisper, “Peace. Be still.” Help me to believe those words, not just hear them.
If the news is heavy, give me courage to carry it. If it’s uncertain, give me grace to wait without despair. And if it’s good, let gratitude flood every corner of my being. But in all of it—before, during, and after—let Your peace go first.
Please, God, let Your peace come quickly—like a steady hand over my trembling heart, like a deep breath that reaches all the way into the worry, like sunlight breaking through the clouds of my mind. Remind me that even when fear rushes in, it can’t stay where Your presence dwells.
And if I forget—if I panic anyway—still meet me there. Meet me in the tears, in the pacing, in the desperate prayers. Let Your comfort find me even in the chaos, reminding me that peace isn’t the absence of fear, it’s the assurance that You are greater than it.
So, dear God, when I’m afraid of another diagnosis, let peace reach me before panic does. Let Your calm rise faster than my fear. Let Your voice speak louder than my anxious thoughts. And no matter what I hear, let my first and last thought be this: You are here, and that’s enough.
Amen.
