Fighting Panic

Time is short.

Two weeks and I’ll be in Salt Lake City, preparing for my first workshop on fictional fitness. A few days later, I vendor at the UTCH conference. My four-hour workshop happens twenty-four hours after that.

My list is long.

Notes to prepare. Books to read. Handouts to print. Thoughts to unscramble. Each day more things to do are added. Now there seems to be so much, so many things I don’t want to forget, that my lists have lists.

Panic.

No. I wiggle free of the grip tightening around my stomach. I force myself to walk away, do something not on the list, to defy the demand I work to the exclusion of all else. I’ve done that before and it doesn’t work.

Everything will come together.

Panic or worry will only cause me to lose sleep and therefore make me more unproductive. I will keep plugging away. I will keep knocking things off the list. And I will watch God bring all the threads together, right on time.