The day began with a sense of control.
Everything felt manageable.
I felt safe.

Having seen the doctor earlier,
I did not think twice
about the new medication he prescribed.
After all,
it was only an anti-inflammatory.

By evening, without warning,
that sense of control slipped away.

Fear has a way of doing that.
It arrives quietly,
then suddenly demands all our attention.
It becomes hard to think clearly.
Hard to decide what the next step should be.
Hard to trust our own judgment.

In moments like this,
I realise how quickly confidence can turn into panic,
and how fragile my sense of self-sufficiency really is.

In today’s Gospel,
the crowd is hungry
and the disciples are overwhelmed.

They see the numbers.
They see the limits.
They want to send the people away.

But You do not panic.

You ask them
to bring what little they have.
Not because it is sufficient,
but because You are.

I recognise myself in the disciples—
wanting solutions,
wanting certainty,
wanting control
before acting.

Yet You invite trust
in the midst of uncertainty.

You show me that when I am overwhelmed,
what matters is not having everything figured out,
but placing what little I have
into Your hands.

Lord,
teach me to remain attentive
when fear clouds my thinking,
to trust You
when I feel scattered,
and to remember
that even in moments of chaos,
You are calm, present, and enough.