The birds of the air, the lilies of the field. Jesus is explaining that we are more beautiful, more beloved, more tended than these. Why worry?
I have heard that regret is uselessly fretting about the past, and worry is uselessly fretting about the future. In my head, I know this to be true. And yet, it’s hard not to worry, right?
In truth, I cannot do anything about the future, at least not for certain. I can try to frame things, or prepare things for a better possible future, but nothing’s guaranteed.
Yesterday, we got keys to our new home. In mid-December we hadn’t planned on moving from our fun, downtown apartment. But with blistering speed, we started our searched for a home, on January 1, and got the keys January 31. We’ll begin to move things in to our new home today, and we’ve got movers coming next Saturday for the rest.
Meanwhile, our sick loved one remains in the hospital, we think. They refuse to talk to us, but they’re communicating with the care team, who has let us know basic info. And by basic, I mean that we know where they are. No idea if/when/where they’ll be released. No idea how they’re doing, or whether they’ll seek us out once released.
Additionally, a complaint has been lodged with the State that we abused our loved one, and we met with the investigator this week. They'll write up their report, sent it on to the State, and we'll hear something within 90 days.
In the world of big life stressors, I have a few running concurrently. And mostly, I don’t worry. But sometimes, in the middle of the night I roll over and start thinking about something. Wondering about another thing. Worrying about something. It definitely does not add one hour to my life. In fact, it removes an hour of perfectly good sleep.
If I really think about it, I’m not worried about finances, or the house, or even my loved one. Mostly. I think what’s hardest for me is the incredible uncertainty of my next week, next month, next year or next decade. My husband and I moved to Portland as part of a longer term plan to finish up our working careers, enjoy some fun downtown urban living, and then play. Now I’m not sure if our loved one will return, if they’ll need longer term care either with us or near us. I’m not sure how long we’ll be working, in the house, or in Portland.
I think it’s the lack of control about the future that’s most unsettling. But truly, even before this illness, I couldn’t ‘control’ the future. Any number of things could have derailed my tidy plan. This disruption is perhaps more extreme, uncertain, and, um, disruptive. I’m actually pretty good with dealing with things that come up, unexpected things. Even if I don’t like it.
This morning, I’m thinking about turning over my future days to God. As it turns out, I never was able to control or predict them; I just had a stronger illusion that I could. Now, it’s clear I cannot, and never could. There is freedom from not being in control, just like there’s freedom in being the passenger seat, compared to the driver’s seat of a car. Today, I need to remember that life is actually a little easer when I’m not in control. Especially when I consider that God’s in the driver seat. Worrying about the future, about my control of the future, or the certainty of my future is, in fact futile, and does not add a single hour to my life. Besides, I like my sleep.
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