Worrying has never solved anything or helped anyone succeed in life. Being concerned is different than worrying. Being concerned acknowledges there are needs and issues to be rationally addressed. Worrying, on the other hand, is like having a gerbil wheel running nonstop in one’s head. It’s worry that robs us of our sleep and keeps us from thinking clearly or creatively. Worry is projecting slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that rarely exist. Worry can be an avoidance mechanism. Worry saps our strength and prevents us from tackling what we can do right now.
When Jesus tells us to stop worrying about the morrow, what we shall eat and what we shall drink because God knows what we need, he is not telling us to sit back and wait for God to magically solve our problems. When the program tells us to let go and let God, it isn’t suggesting that we be passive recipients of life.
When Corrie Ten Boom wrote that any concern too small to be made into a prayer is too small to be made into a burden, she is pointing out that instead of stewing about this or that, we take time to pray — because prayer has this way of clarifying one’s thinking. After all, we pray not to inform God of what we need, but to remind ourselves that God has already given us everything we require to solve our problems and enjoy life.
The root of worry is fear. Fear of loss. Fear of failure. Fear of losing face. Fear of being criticized. Fear of not being accepted. The list goes on. Thus the more we worry and stew about something, the bigger our problems seem to become, and the less opportunity we give God, time, and our rational selves to redefine and resolve the problem. It’s all too easy to turn little bumps in the road into dangerous mountain passes by worrying about everything that could go wrong, rather than being grateful for all that goes right. The more tightly we cling to our worries, the more the answers tend to elude us. Frequently, just stepping back and doing something else is enough to resolve the situation.
When my husband died, I worried about whether I could learn how to pay my bills online. I worried about how I’d fill my days. I worried that life would have little meaning without him to share it. I worried about my ability to adjust and adapt to my new reality. I worried myself awake at night when I desperately needed sleep. I worried I’d never regain my energy. I worried I’d never be happy again.
In spite of all my worrying, none of my fears have come true. Bit by bit, I have been learning how to do some things he had always done. By gradually giving myself time, by praying the /serenity Prayer over and over, I’ve become able to address one thing at a time. instead of worrying, I am learning to swallow my pride and ask for help. As I look back over these past months with their emptiness, worries, and sleeplessness, I am grateful to have rediscovered the wisdom of “let go and let God.” In the end, time truly is a great healer.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.