Worrywart
I am a worrier.
Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.
I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.
That way I won’t be surprised.
It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.
Or faith in God.
Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.
I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…
Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.
I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.
Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.
An old song comes to mind . . . “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”
Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …
It is time once again to release the reins.
September 11, 2014
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