It’s funny, isn’t it, how worry works. You can’t worry about just one thing. It’s impossible. Think about it. Without fail, you start out worrying about something immediate, say, the money situation through the end of the month. It’s doable, but things are going to be a little tight. But within minutes of letting yourself worry about tomorrow, or this week, you add on next month, this summer, the job situation post baby, the school schedule in the fall, and all of a sudden, without quite knowing how you got there, you start to panic that your husband will die and how will you ever get everything together after that?!
Oh, worrying and its irrational descent into hysteria. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so restricting, time-wasting, and joy-killing. It makes Jesus’ words on anxiety ring ever truer in my worry-ridden ears (see Matthew 6:25-34). Even if you don’t believe the whole bit about a God who feeds the birds and will provide for your needs, you can’t help but relate to these words “Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” or these: “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” “Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” Common sense, right? I am missing out on the very life about which I worry, when I succumb to anxiety and fretting.
“Sufficient for the day is its own trouble”–you know that’s true. So, what can I do today? Well, I just owned our tax returns and got those filed, and I can clean up around the apartment and reduce some visual chaos. I can read a little, maybe play some music. As for worrying? Come on. Cleaning is too much for me, let alone the next eight months of my life. Ridiculous Rebekah. Do what you can today, and leave the rest up to the Lord. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness (since I do believe the whole bit about a God who feeds birds and me too) and everything else? It’ll work out. Maybe not always how I want, but certainly better than if I waste all the time between now and then worrying.
Don’t be worried about tomorrow. Tomorrow can worry about itself.