Sometimes it feels like bars of steel
I cannot bend with my hands
Oh - I worry too much
Somebody told me that I worry too much
I remember this song from my father's collection. Funky beat imprinted upon my child's mind. Ohhhh, Ohhhh, somebody told me that I worry too much.
I worry too much. I have been aware of it acutely since my return from India, but I think the pattern started long before then. Aaron comes down with a 103 degree fever. I worry that he might have meningitis. I heard on the news that two soldiers at a nearby base just died of meningitis. Surely it couldn't be. But maybe? Peter dislocates his thumb at a intermural game. I worry that the injury is much worse than I know. Possibly, he will suffer from the pain his whole life. Abby runs around the house. I worry that she might find a whole grape on the floor and choke. Or run into a sharp corner. The economy slides. I don't know anything about the economy, but people say it's bad. People know, right? The older men shake their heads and say, "It's not a good time to be young and startin' out. Too bad." I feel the weight of something I don't understand. Something that hasn't quite trickled down to me yet.
It's not concern. It's worry. Call it like it is.
Sometimes all of this feels like bars of steel. I can't do a single darn thing to bend the circumstances. My desire to be in control reveals volumes about my trust--or lack thereof. Oh friends, I need to believe in my soul, deep down and true, that the very fact it's not in my hands is the good news. Do I believe that His eye is on the sparrow, that His eye is on me, that He is good and His love is eternal?
I ache to say I do.
A little honesty from my weary soul today. I'm worn out from worrying. Trust and faith. May I be a fertile garden for their growth.