to you I stretch out my hands.
Will you work wonders for the dead?
Will the shades stand and praise you?
Psalm 87 
. . .
Just as I think that I am finally getting it together, I find myself struggling to hold on. 'I call to you, Lord, all the day long.' Indeed: because the little things threaten to overwhelm me. The small catastrophes and minor disasters of car trouble and technological glitches, the feeling that there are too many things to do in too short a space of time: these are the things that, taken together, inspire despair. 'Will the shades praise you?'--in other words, if you don't help me out here, Lord, I will go down into the dust.
Not really. I am just prone to that drowning feeling. The thing is, God doesn't mind calming the storm of little things, but longs to bring peace to our souls. So our dramatic calling upon the Lord may be a bit of spiritual histrionics--God answers just the same. God is not sitting in heaven accusing us of making mountains out of molehills, thankfully, but looks tenderly on us, and reminds us that though 'the mountains quake' yet 'the Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.' So, mountains or molehills, there is nothing to fear.
'Cease striving, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.'
Psalm 46 : 3, 7, 10