Dear Little Girl...When Fear Knocks, Stand on the Cornerstone

“When everything feels shaky and uncertain, the Cornerstone hasn’t moved.”

Friday left me completely spun out.

When there’s a situation involving one of my boys—especially one that feels unfair or unjust—it hits me at my core. My mama-bear instincts kick in, my heart pounds, and my mind races with what’s right, what’s wrong, and how to make sure truth is seen. It’s a swirl of fear, anger, and fierce protection, all wrapped together.

And while I was emotionally tangled in every detail, I felt like the world was dancing along around me… completely unfazed.

The contrast between my inner storm and the calm—or perhaps the unawareness—of everything else made me feel even more alone in it. It was as if I was standing still while life moved on, swirling past me in rhythm I couldn’t quite join.

That contrast triggered something in me. Memories of other hard seasons started playing like a highlight reel—times when I felt like I was carrying the emotional load alone. Add that to the other fears swirling around me lately, and by midday my heart was in overdrive. I even found myself drinking during the day, which isn’t typical for me. A clear red flag that my internal world was off balance.

🌀 When Fear Starts Driving the Bus
I’ve learned that underneath my anger usually sits one thing: fear.

Fear that I’ll have to do the hard thing again.
Fear that my child could be misunderstood or labeled in ways that aren’t fair.
Fear that patterns I’ve seen before are repeating.
Fear that I’ll be abandoned when things get hard.
Fear that the stress will make me sick again.
Fear that my life is unraveling before my eyes and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Fear about finances and what could happen if everything really does fall apart.

The fear is real. It’s loud. And if I’m not careful, it starts calling the shots.

🚗 And Fear Is a Terrible Driver (and a Terrible Aim)
By the evening, I was exhausted—mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And in that weary place, I opened my Bible to Acts. It felt like God timed it perfectly. Peter was addressing the Jewish leaders, pointing them back to Psalm 118:22:

“The stone you builders rejected, which has become the cornerstone.”
— Acts 4:11

This verse hit me differently this time. Peter wasn’t just talking about a prophecy fulfilled—he was declaring something unshakable.

Jesus, the rejected stone, is the Cornerstone.
The anchor.
The foundation.

Even when leaders misunderstand.
Even when systems fail.
Even when fear screams.

The Cornerstone has not moved.

🧍‍♀️ Boundaries & Trust
That truth led me to two commitments for the days ahead:

Strengthen my boundaries.
I learned long ago that there’s really only one person I can change—me. The Serenity Prayer still steadies me:
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Trust the Cornerstone.
Even if the outcome doesn’t look like what I imagined, I can trust the One who holds it all. That trust anchors my soul.

⏳ The Waiting Room
I’m still waiting on answers.
Waiting on outcomes.
Waiting to see how things will unfold.

Over the last nine years, I’ve spent a lot of time in “waiting rooms.”
The kind where emotions rise and fall like waves.
The kind where you have no control over what’s happening behind the doors.
Like the waiting room of a hospital—when someone you love is in surgery or ICU—and all you can do is look up and pray.

That’s where I am today.
Looking up.
Choosing not to let fear take the driver’s seat.
If fear tries to climb in, I’ll pull over, ask it to exit, and anchor myself again to the Cornerstone.

💬 Question for you to Journal on:

Where is fear trying to take the driver’s seat in your life right now?
What would it look like to bring that fear to the Cornerstone instead of carrying it alone?

🕊 A Prayer

Lord, you see every place where fear tries to take the wheel in my life.
You know the worries I carry—both the spoken and the silent ones.
Today, I choose to bring them to You, the Cornerstone.
Anchor my heart in Your unshakable truth.
Remind me that I am not alone in the waiting room, the storm, or the unknown.
Give me courage to loosen my grip on control and place it back in Your hands.
Teach me to trust Your steady foundation when everything else feels shaky.
In Jesus’ name.

Amen.

✨ You are not alone in this, friend.

Even in the waiting rooms of life, the Cornerstone holds steady. When fear tries to climb back into the driver’s seat, take a breath, look up, and remember—you are anchored to something unshakable.

Love, 

Worthy