Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons

Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons

Friday, July 22, 2011

The Worry Dance

Laboring and spinning and worrying, laboring and spinning and worrying, round and round I go. This is precisely how I started my day. Even the flowers of the field know better. My very first awake, pillow-thought was one of worry. Side by side, was another thought I whispered gently and quietly as to not disrupt the morning's peace. "Worry is a sin, the Bible tells me NOT to worry. I am going to read my Bible and counteract these worrisome thoughts."

Why I have elevated worry to a "more holy" sin I am not sure. Do not kill, do not lie, do not worry. I've certainly justified worrying in my life since I am sure it indicates my love and concern for those I love. Right?

Downstairs I went, one step at a time, each a reminder, "Do not worry. Do not worry." After retrieving my Bible and a hot cup of dark roast, I settled down to do a word study on "worry".

My well-worn, much-loved Study Bible has a concordance. I found out today that it ends with "woman". The last entry on the last page. Apparently, along with a few stickers, the last few pages of my concordance were ripped out probably by an awake-much-too-early toddler sitting on my lap with flying ripping fingers. Since I have no recollection of the event, I guarantee I was sleep deprived too.

Worry has been ripped out from my Bible. Thankfully, my mind knew where to go in moments like these. Matthew chapter 6.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[a]?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

I love the practical nature of this passage. I can actually replace WORRYING with SEEKING! Worry might be natural. But, the lack of worry is super-natural. It is possible with God. Seeking is to be "continually absorbed in searching for something; making a strenuous effort to obtain something". I can do the worry dance or seek Him to care for me. Unproductive vs. Productive. Unlike breathing, both take effort and thought and time. Why not choose the better thing?

For today, I will take a clue from my Bible and its lack of worry. I will thank God for the vivid illustration of worry being ripped from my life. It has no place. For I have a heavenly Father who knows what I need and He cares for me.

I gracefully refuse to dance this worry dance -- a partner I do not need. Instead I will rest in the embrace of His great love.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Within Arms Reach

Today was a scorcher even as the sun rose. My morning run like mid-day heat. Hot. Sticky. Our mid-morning bike ride quickly interrupted by, "Can we turn around and go home? I'm thirsty!". The sun's rays darkening the shoulders of my boys before my eyes. Summer is here.

Just moment's later I'm shearing my blondies' heads like hot, sweaty, sheep outside. Instead of falling to the ground, the fresh wisps land on dewy skin, staying put, refusing to fall. The clouds rolled in, the sky darkened and everything stilled.

"I think we are gonna have a storm." Middleson stated. "I'll check the weather." Oldest piped in, always ready to help. Sweaty Babyboy with a big boy haircut sleeping soundly. My almost-dried clothes flapping frantically on the clothesline as if trying to beat themselves dry in record time. The wind awoke.

Oldest and I ran up and down the line tossing clothes and pins in the basket, laughing as we went. Just in time. Moments later, the thunder clapped and lightening flashed. The house, once sunny and bright, dark like night.

Feeling a little frightened myself, I considered Babyboy. He really really needed a nap. Yet, I didn't want him to be frightened. For now the sounds in his dreams drowned out the storms surrounding him. I decided to wait outside his door. Within arms reach if he needed me. If the storm sounded too loudly, I'd let him know mommy was near.

Crouched on the floor, waiting by the door, I pondered other storms I've been through. Real storms. Life storms. The ones that shake you and throw you and toss you about.

I pictured Jesus, just waiting and ready to let me know He was there. Within arms reach. Daddy is near.