I am a worrier.
I don’t let worry cripple or consume me, but I do wrestle with it on a daily basis. I have to make an active, conscious effort to keep it at bay. I am continually reminding myself that most of the things I worry about never come to pass.
I have to admit though that I come by it naturally. When I was growing up my mother was a world-class worrier. If there were a remote possibility of something negative happening-she worried about it. She assured me that when I got older I would understand why she worried so much. I was positive that would never happen….except it did.
I can’t really blame my mother though. I haven’t always been a worrier and I am not a worrier today because of her example. It just seems like life and its stresses slowly wore me down and little by little the worries just seemed to sneak up on me.
Last week a dear friend of mine really got me to thinking about this when she told me not to “borrow worry.” When the things I worried about did not materialize, I thought even harder about it. I wondered how many hours I had wasted in needless worry.
As I reflected on this I thought of another example from my childhood, my grandmother. I’m not sure that I remember my grandmother ever worrying about anything. She had a steadfast, unwavering faith that God would take care of her no matter what.
My grandmother believed the Bible was her guidebook for life. She often shared stories from its pages in an attempt to teach me life lessons. She taught me that with faith I could move mountains and that without fear I could walk on water.
I am trying harder to remember and embrace the lessons that my grandmother taught. I am trying to develop faith sufficient to move the mountains that create obstacles in my path. I am trying to dispel the doubt and fear that prevent me from walking on the turbulent seas of this life instead of drowning in them. I am trying to remember that God will take care of me no matter what…
Why should I worry?