I am a worrier. I know it's not God's best for me to worry, and that it's futile because it's nearly always about things I can't control, but I'm still a chronic worrier. I worry about propane leaks, plumbing leaks, water leaks (Yes, we've had all of those this fall!). I worry about mortgage issues, siding that needs to be replaced but costs as much as putting in a pool, college savings. Does Grayson need glasses, and will he ever stop walking on his toes? Hives that won't go away, teeth that are going to need serious orthodontic work. If it can be worried about, I cover it!
I've also realized, in my long career as a worrier, that as soon as the issues I'm stressed about are resolved--generally positively--that another group crops up in their place. When the hot water heater is replaced (twice) one week, and the kids' window seats are rebuilt, the next week water stains appear in the ceiling--underneath the 3 year old roof. The goat doesn't appear to have pneumonia after all (after I forced myself to stick her with a needleful of antiobiotics, of course), but the dog does seem to have stomach cancer. Except, $500 later, he doesn't. He just has diarrhea, all over the expensive rugs.
There is always something to worry about, and I can be consumed with the gnawing worry that eats at my joy and peace.
Except when I refuse to indulge. There is always something to be worried over, unless I push that little niggling tidbit out of my head, decide to think about it another day, and go outside instead. Play badminton with kids who are young enough to think I'm really good at it. Bake brownies for the childcare workers at church, and lick the batter. Take a walk and crunch all the fall leaves under our feet on the bridle path. Do another math lesson and cheer on my non-mathematical child who works so hard to get it, and he does! Fold clean laundry and smell freshly-washed towels. Sip a chai tea latte and not worry about the calories. Turn the music on really loud and sing to the dog.
I am seeing the futility of worrying, and that it's an ugly friend who never satisifes. God says in Psalm 37 that instead of worrying, I'm supposed to "feed on His faithfulness." He steps in and gives me His faithful goodness, His grace, His peace, His joy when life circumstances are worrisome. Even when the curveball I'm thrown is heavier and weightier than a dying hot water heater or water stain, when it's a scary diagnosis or crushing disappointment. He is better than life, and that means He's better than anything in my life.
Today, instead of worrying about water stains and propane smells (The propane detector says everything's fine.) and infections and crumbling siding, I'm going to make nachos and decorated cookies for tonight's game (Go Rangers!!). I'm going to take Grayson to his physical therapy appointment and not worry about if it doesn't work and he walks on his tiptoes forever. I'm going to get ready for co op tomorrow, love on the three little friends who are always with me, fold more clean laundry, and probably sing to the dog. I'm going to be thankful for what God has given me, not worry about what He hasn't, and enjoy today.
Besides, I can't focus on worries and eat up this mix-matched, braided-bun delicious little girl:
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow . . ."