It didn’t turn out the way you'd planned—the way you’d hoped.
I had one of those days recently. Like a mountain on my chest—crushing my joy—wrestling away any fruitful thoughts. Frustration bartered with anger to promote bitterness.
It was the kind of day you’d like to forget. Rewind and start again.
You’ve had that kind of day. It doesn’t even really matter what it was—what happened—or what was said. The smoldering volcano beneath your sea of calm exploded from the depths. Boiling your blood. Raising your blood pressure. And burying your hopes beneath an unwelcome mountain.
Not to mention the fallout you knew was coming. Ashes of thoughts you’d never invited blew into the air and sprinkled over any remnant of happiness.
Like staring into the bottom of an empty coffee cup way too early on a cold, winter morning.
But your thoughts don’t have to own you.
Own your thoughts. Grab them. Capture them. Choke them. And surrender them to the One who moves mountains, calms storms, and cares for you.
Driving home on that one-of-those-days day, I turned on my Worship playlist, and Kristene DiMarco melted my cold-steel thoughts with “It is Well.”
The mountain mover moved the weight off my chest. I breathed a deep breath. His Spirit cooled my blood. And my worries sank into the sea of calm once again.
The weight of worries didn’t matter. The size of the mountain didn’t matter. The fierceness of the storm—the power of the wind—the darkness of the clouds—none of it mattered. Because none of it was greater than the power of His whisper.
The storm within me died.
The mountain crumbled.
The light dispersed the shadows.
One of those days turned into a reminder that the way maker is the day maker, and that started-off-miserable day was a day He had made, and I rejoiced in it despite myself—despite my frustrations—despite it being one of those days.