Earlier this week I found myself awake in the middle of the night again, laying there in bed and worrying.

I fretted about money: Would I be able to pay for next month’s utility bill? Did I pay this month’s credit card bill? How did I find myself surrounded by all this stuff?

I thought about my family: How terrible it will be for my daughters, and for my wife, when I die. I wish I could be there through their grief, but, of course, I can’t.

But I also wrestled with spiritual questions: Does God really exist, or are we alone? Is Jesus really God incarnate, or is the truth found in another religion? Does God really know me, and care about me? Am I really saved, or am I bound for hell or annihilation?

The questions were real, and difficult. As I lay there, unable to sleep, I thought of others who might be awake with anxious thoughts. And I felt a kind of fellowship with them, a club whose membership criteria consists of a late-night, solitary and sleepless kind of initiation ceremony.

I don’t regret being a member of this club. Maybe you’re in it with me. If so, what questions plague you in the middle of the night? How painful has it been? How do you deal with the anxiety?