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'Treat Yourself'

Yesterday was a big accomplishment and now I'm worried.

If you didn’t notice when you opened up the blog, Handiworks is a bit different now. After a lot of time spend editing it, I have revamped Handiworks to now offer copywriting services (Here’s hoping that the Lord provides jobs soon!).

And… drumroll please


Yep, that’s right, I finally made the (financial) leap and am now Googleable. is officially mine, and I couldn’t be happier.

At least, that’s how I felt last night.

Until my mom had the idea to celebrate this accomplishment and my hard work with a fancy dinner, and then I decided to move this party from our dining room to a restaurant.

A Saturday night out probably sounds fun for most people, but it’s making me worried– even though I’m the one who suggested we go out!

We don’t go to restaurants a lot, so this is a big treat. A treat that is not part of my scheduled routine. Even writing about it makes me tense.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I really like my routines. I have each day planned out, even down to what foods I’m going to eat.

I think I like routines so much because I feel in control of something, even if I can’t control what I most want to. I wish I could control my brain, particularly this overly-fearful amygdala of mine.

Anxiety, OCD, it’s exhausting. Add in bouts of depression and I feel everything and nothing at the same time. Knowing that your brain is overreacting and not being able to shut off those reactions… it’s internal agony.

So I strive to control what I can. Like my routines, my workouts, my food.

But the problem is that I take it too far.

I’m worried about going out to eat because I know I’m going to eat more than I would at home. A ton of carbs are calling my name and I never pass up dessert... especially if it looks like this ;)

I always have a cheeky grin on my face when I go out and get that extra-special food (just ask my parents, who always laugh at me).

I enjoy the meal itself; it's the thought of it that leaves me full of dread.

The fear in me is saying that this treat meal will ruin all of my fitness and health progress, making me puff up like a balloon.

I tell myself that this isn't logical. One meal is not going to affect my health in the long run. It's my daily habits that will, not one measly dinner.

I tell myself this even as fear zooms through my mind. Couldn’t I just eat at home– avoiding this restaurant discomfort altogether?

Yeah, but then I’d be listening to the fear.

God hates seeing us bound in the chains of fear because that's not how He's made us to be (2 Tim 1:7). Just google 'Bible verses about fear' if you don't believe me.

God tells us to "fear not" 365 times in the Bible-- one for each day of the year-- because He yearns to help us break our fear chains.

Thankfully, slowly but surely, He is helping me break those chains.

So I am going out to dinner tomorrow. I’m going to eat what I want and celebrate all that God’s doing, and will do, through Handiworks.

And I will not listen to fear. I pray that you won’t either.

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