I woke suddenly at 3:30 this morning, panicked about my finances. I had enough money to get through the next year or so, but for some reason this morning, it wasn’t enough.

If I don’t do something fast, I’ll lose everything and end up on the streets. I’ll be forced to forage for meals from the back-alley garbage can of that pizza joint down the street…and die from gluten poisoning.

So I powered up the computer and decided to become a day trader. Never mind that I can barely distinguish a bull from a bear and have no idea how the NASDAQ works.

I was certain I’d have to make some quick money, especially if I wanted to have enough to afford  a pound of bananas when they reach sixty bucks a pound.

This is what happens when I’m consumed with fear. I forget I have God and think I’m in charge of figuring everything out. The fear convinces me I must do something NOW, like become a day trader (although I know nothing about stocks), or escape to Belize and buy a coffee shop (even though I can’t locate Central America on a map), or get an advanced degree (when I can’t even afford dinner, much less pay off a hundred-thousand-dollar school loan).

After staring at stock charts until the sun came up, I turned off the computer and finally admitted I wasn’t going to figure my life out at 6:30 in the morning. At least not this morning.

I got down on my knees and said the following, “Hey, God. It’s me, again. I keep thinking money is the problem. Can you show me how to appreciate everything I have right now and be okay with it?” I repeated that prayer over and over, all throughout the day, until I actually meant it. Which was, in my estimation, at about 9:50 that night.