Worry

“Do not worry.”

 It’s not a wish in Scripture. “Do not worry.” A command, scrawled across a page, inspired by the Holy Spirit and written by a man, a thousand years ago.

 A command. Not an option for us. “Do not worry.”

I think about the times we give ourselves the freedom to worry, permission to sneak around commands because surely He didn’t really say?

 And there is it again, Eve asking the words the serpent first spoke, ‘did God really?’ Did God really say, ‘do not eat’?

 Did God really say, ‘do not worry?’

 Did God really say?

These words are written over and over, more than 300 times in Scripture, the command to not worry, not be anxious, not fear. “Do not fear,” says the Lord, and we say, ‘but what if?’

But what if tomorrow is not what we expect?

 But what if our dreams are shattered?

 But what if there is not enough?

But what if death calls?

But what if the economy fails, or our children grow hungry or if or if or if. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Sufficient for the day is its own troubles.”

In March, I consider the words spoken by a man wiser in years and in words. He spoke, repeating what was said by the Only Wise King. “Consider the lilies of the field.” March brings flowers and I do consider. Words chant over in my head, ‘do not worry.’ I forget them and the come back by the grace of the same God Who made these flowers and all words. ‘Do not worry.’ Worrying is easy. But each day in March brings more flowers, and I am challenged, challenged in my mind, in my prayer, in my hope, in my trouble. “Do not worry.”

 We offer our prayers up to Him, our hopes and dreams and troubles. But offering is not the same as anxiousness, and there is a choice here. Do we want to go on sinning, or to pursue—to pursue peace, to pursue righteousness, to pursue Him?

“Consider the birds of the air, how they neither toil nor reap… does your Heavenly Father not love you more than these?” Does He? Do I believe that He does love these people He made in His Own Image, that He poured out His blood for, more than the birds of the air? The same birds that He promises never fall to the ground without His will?

 I question, and I know, ‘I believe, Father, help my unbelief.’ Because anxiety, though painful, is easier than leaving it in hands that were pierced for me, and worry is a gateway to a façade of the control I don’t want to give up.

By worrying, do I add control?

 By worrying, do I grow taller?

 By worrying, do I add one cubit to my height?

I am still here, 5’3 and some change, and I have worried almost all my life. I still worry beneath His perfect peace. I still rise up early and stay up late, toiling, toiling, toiling because what if?

What if God is true? What if He speaks truly?

 What if He has this all within His hands?

 What if tomorrow is His and the days to come?

What if hopes and dreams and marriage and kids and joys and sorrows and pain and grief and mountains and valleys and laughter and birth and life and death are all His, to do with as He wills, and He is exactly Who He says He is?

 What if the call to not worry is a command, and one we can trust Him in, as the Speaker Who gives those words and upholds the world by the Power of His Word?

We serve a God Who never fails, so in the darkness He will be there, and in the light too. in the shadows and pain and hurt and sorrow and yes, in the joy and goodness too, for He is the God Who gives good gifts and makes beauty from ashes, we can trust in Him. And we should.

Has He ever failed?

Is He ever untrustworthy?

Can He speak and not fulfill?

What a God we serve, that He would uphold us, we who are dust, and give grace to the weary and worrisome.  He gives grace to the fallen and uplifted. He gives grace to the broken and the joyful and He walks with us through all the valleys and hills, upholding us by His Word.

So in those valleys, birds fly and the command rings out true, because He is true.

‘Do not worry.’