The other day, I was walking by one of our study lounges and saw a young woman on her computer, looking at engagement ring after engagement ring on Google images. Clicking on her favorites.
I remember those days. I must have Googled hundreds of rings, wondering when Kyle would propose. We had always talked about marriage (almost from day one), and I knew an engagement was in our near future, but the waiting was killing me.
I used to stick my hand out and imagine what it would look like with a shiny ring. I wondered how I would say "yes" and made sure to keep my nails clean and manicured in case I needed to show them off.
I remember sitting at our favorite Mexican restaurant, me and one of my best friends from graduate school. I was lamenting how Kyle would probably never propose. Never, ever. Woah is me.
But you read my blog...you know how the story ends. We'll be married 3 years in July.
Fast forward to last August. I got the baby brain. It was like one morning I thought "yea, we'll get pregnant in the next few years/when Kyle graduates/when things quiet down/when we move out of the residence hall that I run," and then woke up the next morning thinking "baby now please."
We started trying back in August. We had spent our marriage up to that point trying hard not to get pregnant. So when we wanted a baby now please, we thought it would be a piece of pie. Humble pie is more like it.
I would look in the mirror and stick out my belly, just pining over a little one to fill that space. Squinting at the pee-pee sticks trying to see that second line. But months went by and no baby, just runs to the grocery store for more tampons.
But you read my blog...you know where we are in this story. 3 years married in July and baby D coming to you in October.
So you know what these two stories have in common?
I was worried sick that Kyle changed his mind. That he would propose too late to book a reception hall or get the perfect dress. I was worried sick that there were complications with my body. That I would never get pregnant.
But you read my blog.
Now this is just my story. For some, that second line never does appear. Or Mr. Perfect takes his good ole' time showing up to the party.
But "can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" [Matthew 6:27]
Why does it seem like our default in life is to worry? Or at least that's my default. I could hear a million and one things that are perfect, and just one tiny problem, and I am in tears with worry. The whole shebang is spoiled. Or rather, I spoiled it with worry.
Worry is sinful. Truly. The bible outlines the direction our lives should take as lovers and followers of Jesus Christ.
One of those things is to not worry.
It's there plain as day, tucked at the end of Matthew 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? 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? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 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? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
There you have it. The cold hard facts.
Worry indicates a distrust in our perfect creator and his perfect plan. It robs you of joy. It puts doubt in your mind. As I read on Twitter from my friend Murr, "worrying does not take away tomorrow's troubles; it takes away today's peace."
I promise you that I am not done worrying. [I have a stress-induced poo-poo problem that says otherwise.] Like I said earlier, it's my default.
But I will continue to bring it to the Lord, every day, every minute if I have to. Breathing out my worries in exchange for breathing in his peace.
How do you deal with worry? Do you have prayers that you say to release them to God?