Under-Pressured

I love to drive. On a beautiful sunny day, there is nothing better than cruising down the highway with the music blaring, soaking in all of Creation. I always imagine all the places I could go on a whim if I just kept on driving. It's gloriously liberating! ...However, I have a huge problem with being the passenger. There is no end to the looming dangers of riding in the car anywhere but the driver's seat. My anxiety level sky rockets, and every year I get older, it gets worse. I worry that the driver isn't paying attention, I worry that an oncoming or merging car is going to pull out in front of us, I worry that the car in the next lane is going to drift into us, I worry about hitting pedestrians, motorcycles, and animals. I worry, worry, worry. I realize this fear is mostly irrational, and I try hard to keep myself in check, but I frequently cannot stop myself from gripping the door handle or suddenly sucking in my breath. I'm sure it's very disconcerting (and annoying) to the driver, I just can't help it. And I don't consider myself a control freak, at least, over and above what is normal. I mean, most of us prefer to be in control. I just think I have fallen into a too-comfortable life. For a mom of teenagers, I have very little stress, which is not entirely good. Stress is really the pressure to perform to a certain standard. We all need a balance between pushing ourselves to be the absolute best we can be and enjoying the fruits of our labors. I have resisted taking on activities that might create strain or discomfort, so now, I challenge myself. I'm heading into uncharted territory knowing I am strong enough to withstand a storm. Gonna let God take the driver's seat, and just imagine all the places I will go.