This morning I cried into my bowl of Golden Grahams.

This morning I cried into my bowl of Golden Grahams, so much so that I actually wondered if I'd be able to taste the salt in my next bites.

This afternoon I laid on my living room floor and struggled to hold in tears, overcome with so many different emotions that I felt paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling.

I'm not surprised that so many of us struggle with intense anxiety and crippling depression.

It's a really difficult time to be a person right now.

It makes for an even harder time when you experience life through a deeply empathetic lens - taking on the emotions and energies of those around you.

As I laid on the living room floor and pondered some of the bigger questions that life has thrown at me over the last few months, I went back to a conversation I had the day before with a colleague about how maybe it would be easier if I tried to let God into my life.

Maybe each decision wouldn't feel so heavy.

Maybe life would start to feel a tad bit simpler.

Maybe I wouldn't feel like I have the weight on my shoulders and just maybe I could go a day without the pain of constantly clenched teeth.

I'm not a woman of faith. I'm not a believer, never have been, never wanted to be.

I'm skeptical, you see. I have a lot more faith in myself than some mystical idea of this godly power who guides us along with the hopes that we'll take the less sinned-upon road.

With no sudden clarity, I got up from the floor and started to get ready for work. I thought to myself, "Great, now I get to go sit in traffic for the next hour on MoPac."

MoPac, or Texas State Highway Loop 1, is an incredibly busy highway on the west side of Austin, busy nearly every time I find myself on it, but especially right before I have to make my way to my evening retail shift at Athleta.

Surprisingly, we were cruising along with little stop and go, when out of nowhere, we all slammed on our brakes and came to a complete stop. A few cars in front of me, I could see that there was a man on the ground, writhing in pain with a helmet on his head.

With no idea what was really happening, I put on my hazard lights, parked my car in the middle of the freeway, and sprinted through the cars to see how I could help the man.

There were rows and rows of people sitting in their cars, watching this play out. One man rolled down his window and let me know he called 911 and asked if I had EMT experience.

Does a weekend wilderness survival training certification count?

When I got through the cars, I saw that there was a man who had also just gotten out of his car and was trying to calm down the motorcyclist who had been involved in a hit and run accident.

The motorcyclist was clearly having a panic attack, desperately rolling around on the ground

trying to pry his helmet off of his head to catch his breath.

An unexplainable sense of calm swept through my mind and body. I got down on the road and held his hand, asking him to keep still in case he had a spinal injury. We slowly removed his helmet and tried to assess the situation, while making him comfortable. He was propped up on his backpack, which may have softened the blow of the freeway blacktop.

“Sir, what's your name?”

"................Paul."

"Paul, where are you from?”

"..........................."

"Paul, are you from the Austin Area?”

"Yes."

"How old are you, Paul?"

"............................."

"Paul, do you know how old you are?"

"You're going too fast. Give me a second to think."

"Are you in your 50s?"

"I'm 60. I'm 60. Is this a dream? Where am I?"

"This is pretty surreal, but this is not a dream. You're currently in the middle of MoPac. You were hit by a car and now we're

stopped in the middle of the road."

"This feels like a dream."

The questions continued and the pain was assessed until the ambulance arrived.

With the craze of MoPac, I continue to be in a state of awe that I walked up to a man that had just been hit by a car on one of the busiest freeways in Austin and physically appeared to have some major scrapes through his jeans and obvious shock from the whole situation.

How did all of the cars stop so quickly without hitting him again as he landed on the road?

All I did was ask Paul some questions, hold his hand, and try to keep him cool as he laid

there under the hot Austin sun, on an 80 degree November day in his thick leather jacket.

After the paramedics were on scene, I got back into my car and drove to work at the mall.

Once the adrenaline subsided, I broke into a guttural sob (third cry of the day and counting).

Just 10 minutes prior, I was laying on a different ground, looking up at the ceiling, wondering if it would be easier to believe in something greater than myself. And then there I was, kneeling in the middle of a completely halted freeway holding Paul’s hand and looking him in the eyes telling him that we were there to help.

When I saw the news tonight that Ted Cruz beat Beto O’Rourke in the midterm elections by a few points, any other day, it would have been the 4th time that I broke into tears.

But for tonight, I’m going to keep faith that just maybe there is some mystical godly power, waiting in the wings for us to just say, “I have no more answers. I have nothing left to give. I surrender. Please guide me and show me the way.”