One Sunrise at a Time

As I sit down to write this, I can still feel the tension in my shoulders from all the stress I carried around like a badge of honor. I didn’t sleep well last night. My mind kept spinning with “what ifs”—what if this doesn’t work out? What if that falls through? What if I’m not enough? The future felt like this giant foggy unknown pressing in on me like a weight.

But then, the Holy Spirit gently whispered to my soul this morning as I opened my Bible to Matthew 6:34:

“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

And I felt that Word hit me like a wake-up call.

Jesus commanded us not to worry. Not suggested. Not advised. Commanded. That’s where I feel the rub—how often we act like worry is just a personality trait instead of a form of disobedience. We normalize anxiety and stress like they’re part of being human, but Jesus calls us to a higher standard. I felt convicted, not condemned. He doesn’t shame us for worrying, but He definitely doesn’t coddle our excuses either. That’s love. Real love.

It’s almost like I heard Him saying to me: “Daughter, I didn’t design you to carry the weight of tomorrow. I give you strength for TODAY. Walk in it.”

Later, I was drawn to Psalm 68:19, where it says:

“Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.”

Daily. Not weekly. Not monthly. Not “when it gets really bad.” DAILY. That means today. That means now. That means He’s not ignoring the things that keep me up at night or the pressures I pretend don’t bother me. He’s right here, ready to carry the weight I keep trying to muscle through alone. Why do I keep forgetting that?

I also reflected on Matthew 6:11, part of the Lord’s Prayer:

“Give us today our daily bread.”

Today’s. Not tomorrow’s. Not next month’s. Not “bread for when I’m married” or “bread for when the job comes through” or “bread for when everything makes sense.” TODAY’S bread. That’s what I’m supposed to pray for. That’s all I’m promised.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: sometimes I don’t want just today’s portion. I want to see the whole staircase. I want certainty. I want control. And God, in His mercy, denies me that because He’s more interested in my trust than my temporary peace of mind.

There’s a quote I came across today that punched me in the gut (in the best way):

“Do not let the worries of tomorrow affect your relationship with God today.”

That hit hard. Because how often do I do exactly that? How often do I let anxiety put distance between me and the One who’s holding it all together? I’ll skip prayer time because I’m “too overwhelmed,” not realizing the very thing I need is time in His presence.

So here’s what I did today: I put down my phone. I got on my knees. And I prayed this:



Lord Jesus, I surrender my illusions of control. I place today in Your hands, fully, completely, with trembling trust. Help me to stop dragging tomorrow’s troubles into today’s grace. Help me to see You clearly in the chaos, to believe You’re good even when I’m uncertain. Give me strength for today’s battle, joy for today’s blessings, and peace for today’s journey. You are my portion. You are enough. Teach me to live one day at a time, walking step by step with You. Amen.


I don’t have all the answers. But I don’t need to. That’s the beauty of this walk. I just need to hold His hand.

To anyone reading this, maybe you’re like me—overthinking, overfunctioning, overstressing. Hear me when I say this with love and a bit of holy boldness: Stop it. Jesus died for more than your eternal salvation; He died to give you abundant life today (John 10:10). Not someday. Not “when things calm down.” Today.

So, what’s stealing your joy today? What’s trying to rob your peace? Is it a deadline? A diagnosis? A disappointment? A delay? Bring it to Him. All of it. He can take it. He wants it.

You don’t have to fake peace. You can receive it.

You don’t have to carry the weight. He already did on Calvary.

You don’t have to know the whole plan. Just know the Planner.

I’m learning that living one day at a time isn’t about laziness or apathy—it’s about radical faith. It’s about saying, “God, I trust You with what I cannot see, and I will be faithful with what I can.”

And if all I do today is love Him well, lean on Him deeply, and walk with Him closely—then that is more than enough.

So, here’s to tomorrow… whenever it comes. But for now?
Today belongs to Jesus. And so do I.