When Anxiety Meets Grace

I was running.
Not walking. Not ready. Running.

The hallway was crowded.
Students everywhere. Notes in hand.
Last-minute whispers. Last-minute hope.
Everyone seemed to know what they were doing.

And I… was trying to remember.

But nothing came.

Narrow corridors. Echoing footsteps.
I pushed through the crowd and climbed up,
higher and higher—
until I reached the top floor .

Then suddenly—
a seating list appeared.

I frantically searched for my name.
Not here.

"You might be seated below", somebody said.

So I turned.
And ran again.

Down the stairs. Faster this time.
Heart heavier. Mind blank.

I reached a room.
Bags lined outside.
Inside teachers were already handing out papers.
Students still holding their books, as if time had not fully begun.

I placed my bag outside.
Slipped into an empty seat.

And the fear finally spoke:
What if I don’t pass?

Not because I didn’t try…
But because I couldn’t remember a thing.

The paper reached my desk.
I looked down.

Something was off.

There were scribbles on it.
Random words. Out of place.
One mutton sukka written there, as if it belonged.

At the top the date read 1998.

Confusion.

I called the teacher.
“Is this the right question paper?”

She said yes.

So I looked again.

The second question-
Explain all the sorting algorithms.

So many listed.
So many I should have known.

But my mind… was empty.

I turned the page.

And then... surprise!

Answers.

Written out.
Already there.

I informed the supervisor.
She took it away and gave me a supplement.

I opened it.

First page—blank.
Good. Expected.

As I flipped the page - scribbled answers again.

And somehow…
the previous sheet wa again found below this suppliment.

Two sources.
Two chances.
In the middle of my confusion.

And just when it all felt overwhelming—

poof.

It was gone.

My husband woke me up.

Silence.
Morning light.
No exam. No paper. No running.

Just a dream.

And maybe… not just a dream.

I guess it came from somewhere real.
From standing on the edge of a big change.
From the quiet uncertainty I’ve been carrying.

I always imagined settling in Mumbai.
That was the picture. The plan. The comfort.

But now… life is leading me to Chennai.

Maybe the dream was about the exam was about this moment—
standing between what I hoped for… and what is unfolding now.

A part that feels unprepared.
A part that wonders,
Will I be okay here? Will I manage? Will I belong?

And somewhere deep inside,
there’s a part of me still unsure.

And learning, slowly, to sit in that space.

But my dream reassures me.

The answers are already there.
Written. Provided. Given.

Not once…
But twice.

I didn’t earn it..
Yet… it was still given.

Because this is not just about fear.
It is about grace.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  -- 2 Corinthians 12:9 

I feel unprepared.
But I am not unsupported.

I feel unsure.
But I am not alone.

I fear the outcome.
But the provision is already in place.

This dream doesn’t just expose my anxiety…

It gently corrects it.

Even in the chaos… There is a quiet assurance.
God had already written what I needed.

--

10 Mar 2021