I’ve seen a peace, a contentment. But it is always out of reach. It is agonizing beauty, like a distant mountain. I can’t get there.

Fear keeps me from living today; anxiety steals my joy for living tomorrow. Why am I so anxious? I find no assurance that it won’t all fall apart tomorrow. Why have my attempts to be satisfied with sciences, religions, philosophies, entertainments, even with friends, left me feeling empty, shallow, and vain? Why have I been so reluctant to call out to God for help?