What Then?

It is in the silence of the night when the thoughts clamor. When fears slink in like vultures creeping closer to the dying. Of hope. Of strength. The darkness echoes with my cries of distress. Of dismay. I wrestle with the angst, longing for victory. For sleep.
I know that my God is good.
I believe that He is merciful.
How do I make that enough, when my heart, it fills with dread? With sorrow? When I expect words, ugly, smeared across the page when the sun rises again, and the doctor, he hands my daughter the report regarding that tumor, multiplying?
What then?
I read other words. Words that glow, shimmering, in the dim.
"Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. "  Isaiah 41:10
Here, a command is written: do not fear. Again my heart cries out: "How? How do I keep breathing when the pain is looming, leering?" And that is when I see the promise: "I am here." God is present. Near.
Another command is stated, as if the first was not sufficient. Do not be dismayed. Webster's 1828 dictionary defines dismay as "To deprive of that strength of firmness of mind which constitutes courage; a yielding to fear." So, don't be afraid and don't give in to fear and anxiety.
Is it not my mind, which does battle? Don't my thoughts sway my feelings? Tempting me to yield? To despair? Is it not dismay that opens my eyes in the night, chasing away my rest? It is as if God is saying, "Let Me repeat Myself: I am God. I am great. I am mighty. Don't give in to all that rot. Don't turn your gaze away from Me. Because, really? I am here. And I am bigger. I chose you. And I love you. And did I mention? I am God. "
Then He proceeds to tell me all the things that He will do.
He will strengthen me. This includes my mind, that battles in the night.
He will help me. He will support my weak knees that want to give way on this path.
Furthermore, He will hold me up. Take my hand and guide me. Keep me from falling.
My God, He offers me, Himself. His might enables Him to help me, but it is His love for me that causes Him to say that He will help me. Will be here. It's as if He wants to replace the dry bones I have been gnawing on with flesh that nourishes.
It is as the clock chimes echo the midnight hours, that Truth begins to permeate and loosen the clenching of my ache. When courage begins to woo my thoughts away from the trembling that has held me captive.  Words smeared across a report are nothing compared to a God, who marches boldly through the ages, shouting "I am! I will!"
To a God who always whispers, soothing, "I am here. I love you."
"I. Am."
" Here. "
"I. Am. "
"I. AM. "