I’m a worrier. I’ve heard the statistic that something like 90% of what we worry about never happens. But rather than being reassured by this fact, I worry that what I’m worrying about might be in the category of the 10% that does happen. I can worry about almost anything—from the state of the local real estate market to the safety of the food we eat (or the milk we drink).
For whatever reason, I struggle more with worry in the winter than in other seasons of the year. I think maybe it’s the sheer amount of time spent indoors. I probably consume more media in the winter, too, and that’s always a great source of new and interesting things to worry about. For example, how would I know that the lid of my YETI cup could be harboring mold and sickening me with every sip of my coffee I take if I didn’t see the viral video last month warning me of this potential hazard? And yesterday my mom called to tell me about a story she saw on the news warning that a lot of the makeup being marketed to young girls has asbestos in it, so I should probably go through the drawers and throw it away. Fabulous. The girls have been playing with carcinogenic eye shadow for years now.
Even without the fodder of the news and social media, I can keep myself busy with worries closer to home. Right now there are minor issues with the girls at school, decisions about where each of them should be next year, some matters at the Spouse’s work, and questions about what I should be doing career-wise in the days to come. I wonder/worry whether we’re balancing our parenting, our work, our relationships, and our church life well at all. We may just be drowning ourselves in suburbia and chasing the wind. Who are the girls becoming? What are they learning about the world and their place in it? Are we raising them well? Who are we becoming? Are we doing anything right over here?
These are the type of thoughts that start stirring in the quiet and quickly flood my mind if I give them an inch of space to do so.
worry—to torment oneself with or suffer from disturbing thoughts; fret; to torment with cares, anxieties, etc.
I know that, in a sense, to worry is very natural. We want to make good decisions. So most all of us worry, at least occasionally, about our health and our finances and our futures. As parents we worry about our children and feel quite justified in doing so. After all, if we don’t worry about our own bodies and our own families and our own affairs, who will?
But we know worry isn’t healthy. Like the definition tells us, it’s a form of self-torment. And the Bible is very direct on the matter.
Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Matt. 6:34; NLT
Jesus said, “That is why I tell you not to worry about every day life…” Luke 12:22; NLT
Surely Solomon and Jesus aren’t calling us to shut our brains down and move toward some mindless state of existence. God created us with a tremendous capacity to think. All I can reason is that maybe He’s asking us to replace our natural tendency to worry with other mindful activities like prayer and praise and pondering. None of these activities come as naturally, but the end result of doing them is altogether different. Instead of leading to anxiety… they lead to peace.
I understand something of what it means to pray and to praise, but I’ve never really thought about what it means to ponder. It’s not a word we use a lot in everyday conversation. Dictionary.com defines it this way:
ponder—to consider something deeply and thoroughly; meditate; to weigh carefully in the mind
While the definition of “worry” has a negative connotation, the definition of “ponder” is more encouraging. And better still, we’re specifically told to ponder:
How amazing are the deeds of the Lord! All who delight in him should ponder them. Psalm 111:2; NLT
I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands. Psalm 143:5; ESV
Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19; NIV
Pondering is still thinking, but it’s directed thinking. In the same way that Dave Ramsey says,”You have to tell your money where to go,” we have to tell our minds what to think about. And just like redirecting our money is hard, redirecting our minds is difficult, too. It requires a lot of that dreaded word: discipline.
One night last week one of the girls was having trouble going to sleep because of something scary she had seen on a video earlier in the day. So I stood there at the foot of her bed telling her she just needed, and I quote, “to take her thoughts captive and think about something better and truer than that nonsense.” The great irony here is, of course, that I very rarely take my own thoughts captive. I’m a lot better at talking the talk than walking the walk when it comes to worry. And I’m an expert at camping out on some nonsense.
Here’s all I know. Like a stubborn tenant, worry isn’t going to move out of our minds on its own. If I want to become less of a worrier and more of a ponderer, I have to free up some room in my mind for God to work. And, I have to believe, really believe, that the Spirit can and will displace the worry that clouds my mind with thoughts more worthy of my time and energy — thoughts that, in time, are shaped more like prayers and praises and ponderings.
As he often does, Eugene Peterson says it in a powerful way in The Message:
I have heard that the opposite of Worry is “Faith!” When you are tempted to worry, just tell the Lord: “Thank you for keeping us safe. . . for preparing a place for us in the future….for health, strength, and the basics of food and shelter! ”
You are concerned–that is Good. You are doing a great job parenting, being a daughter, sister, Aunt……and caring for others! Keep remembering that!
Love this! Needed it! Love you!