Worry

Worry…I think this one word describes my worst problem, my biggest failure.  I worry about everyone and everything. I worry about my children, my husband, my extended family, my friends, my coworkers, my neighbors, my marriage, my faith, my job, my finances, my church, my Bible study group, my education, my community, my nation, my blog… I even worry about the fact that I worry too much.  I guess you could say worrying has become an addiction in my life.  I truly never realized until I typed that last sentence that I had an addiction to worry.

Jesus was very clear in Matthew 6:25-27 when He instructed us not to worry.  “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who among you by worrying can add a single day to his life (Matthew 6:25-27 NIV).”  Jesus didn’t give a complicated sermon.  He didn’t weave it into a parable.  He didn’t hesitate or stutter. He gave His message clearly when He instructed us not to worry because it won’t do any good.  No matter how much time and energy you devote to worrying, you will never gain any advantage in whatever situation you are worrying about.  You will simply waste time…time you never get back, time that could have been used productively, time you may have enjoyed, time forever sacrificed on an alter of the great deceiver, that serpent who told the first lie that triggered the first worry.

Worry does two basic things.  It tears down and it builds up.  It tears down the realities of your present and the possibilities of your future.  It tears down your relationships.  It tears down your potential accomplishments.  It tears down your self esteem, your self worth.  It tears down your immune system and destroys your health.  It tears down much that should have been and forever robs your future of those should-have-beens that now may never be.

Worry tears down everything you allow it to, but it must have at least some measure of your permission for worry to be this devastatingly powerful.  You must hand your authority over your own life to worry in order for it to be able to tear down anything.  You made a decision, consciously or unconsciously, to allow your mind to be controlled by worry.  Worry doesn’t have a mind of its own.  It must hijack yours before it can do anything.  How much it tears down is up to you.

The second thing worry does is build up.  It builds walls between you and those around you.  It builds walls between you and God.  It builds walls as tall and as strong as you allow it to build.  If allowed, worry will build walls so tall and so strong that you will feel encased in an impenetrable room with no doors or windows.  You can hear the activity on the other side of the walls but never be able to live life beyond your worry-built walls.

In his letters to the Philippians the Apostle Paul instructed them, “Be anxious (worried) for nothing but in prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philipians 4:6-7 NIV).” Paul knew what he was talking about.  He suffered persecution and imprisonment for his faith.  When I think of all Paul faced and persevered through because of his faith and service to God, I feel guilty for all the worrying I do.  The guilty feelings don’t automatically erase my natural tendency to worry, but they do remind me that I need to pray my way through my worries and make a conscious and consistent effort to refocus my mind and heart on God’s grace and mercies and put my faith in Him.

I leave you with a quote by George Muller, a preacher from a another generation.  “The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith.  The beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety.”

Jumping Roller-Coasters

Picture yourself on the largest, scariest rollercoaster you’ve ever seen.  On this particular ride there are two separate coasters.  They run in opposite directions on tracks built side-by-side and cross beside each other in a valley between two big drops.  From certain vantage points on the track you can see the other coaster and you notice a child who is not properly strapped in, and you fear they will fall to their death at any moment.  You don’t believe anyone else can see what you see.  You believe you are the only chance that child has to survive.  You make the decision.  You unbuckle your seatbelt.  You brace yourself to jump from your coaster to the child’s coaster as they cross beside each other for just a split second.  Get ready.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.  Jump!

Did you make it to the other coaster in time?  Did you make it to the other coaster at all?  Did you catch the child?  Did either of you live?  Did one or both of you die?

The last two weeks of my life have consisted of nothing but roller-coasters…the scary ones with no known ending in sight.  To make it even worse, railcars from rollercoasters I rode over twenty years ago have attached themselves to these new coasters.  You know the kind I mean.  The old coasters you told yourself were gone.  You insisted to yourself whatever had happened was over and you had moved on to better things…but found later that buried things were not really dealt with.  The added weight from these rusty, old railcars has produced extra speed and a rougher ride and has nearly pulled the entire coaster from the tracks more than once in recent days.

I have always been a strong person.  I have always been the one people would come to for guidance and help…the one to fix everyone’s problems.  I have been asked to jump from coaster to coaster many times in my life with no safety harness and have done it successfully to rescue whomever needed it each time.  But right now I’m tired…too tired to jump.  The rusty old cars have just stolen too much strength from me and I just can’t rescue anyone else right now.  But I feel so guilty for not jumping anyway.

King Solomon figured out years ago that sometimes you just have to let the rollercoaster run its course and not feel guilty.  Some times you just have to let the Master handle it without your help.  “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which was planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace…I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8,14 KJV).”