Last night three of my friends came home from Australia after spending the summer there--yippee! It's so great to see them again. I went to the airport at midnight to welcome them home, along with their families and a few other friends. Was extremely tired because had gotten up very early that morning to look after my nephews for a full day, 8am to 6pm. Luckily I met up with a friend in the evening and had two large strong coffees and didn't come home till 10:30pm, so it wasn't too long and tired a wait before leaving for the airport.
Then when we left the airport, about 1am, the parking ticket machine decided it was going to decline my eftpos card three times in a row, and being tired and slightly stressed I panicked, burst into tears and assumed the Someone at the pool had stolen my eftpos card along with my shoes, taken all my money, and then returned it to my wallet. Now it seems quite a far-fetched theory but you must remember it was 1am. Thank goodness for a kindly passer-by, who gave me the 20 cents I needed to pay off my parking ticket. Stopped at an ATM on the way home and all my money was there still. Go figure. A valuable lesson in trusting God, I think.
The problem with my panic attacks is that once I start to panic, I keep on going, even when the initial catalyst is resolved. I couldn't get to sleep till 4am, and woke up worrying about my U2 tickets and if they'd been lost in the post because I still haven't got them. Now I'm feeling a bit more calm. Thank goodness.