Luke 12:25-26
And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?
This was part of the reading today at church. A lot of times I feel as though I worried my husband to death. I didn’t mean to cause him any anxiety but often I did anyway. I was so worried about his health. I was so worried about how to take care of him. He saw all of that. My anxiety didn’t exist in a vacuum. My husband was my best friend. He was with me most of the day and he saw how stressed I was. Just like I felt like a failure for not being able to take care of him he felt the same about me. He used to tell me over and over again to trust God who promised to take care of us. I was still anxious as if that could hold everything together. And with all of that worry between the two of us he still died at 45 years old. I couldn’t change a thing.
Part of me wants to scream that this is important so of course I should be worried. I should worry because… Why? I worry because almost nothing is in my control. I worry because part of me isn’t sure if God really loves me so I hold onto fear. I worry because I think I know better. The reason I wanted to join a convent isn’t because I thought I was holy. I know just how weak my faith is and I am a coward.
To put it in the most blunt terms, sometimes I desire to be a god. That is the most arrogant and awful desire I have. Unfortunately, it’s a thought many people have but never articulate. It is so easy to fall prey to the desire to be a little god and control everything. We think we know better so we refuse to trust God. This can all manifest in terrible doubt, anger and anxiety. This arrogance can manifest in the belief that we can control the most dangerous situation because we are just that good. There is one major flaw with all of this. We are all just flawed humans. I can’t control when I will die anymore than I can will ten million dollars into my bank account. Worrying about either won’t make a difference.
I have a dream that occurs at random intervals. The details are always the same. In the dream I die. It is always dark and there is always music. It is a perfect song that I can not describe in any terms. I know there is light there where the song is but I can’t see it. There is always a voice (that isn’t a voice) in the darkness. The voice tells me that as long as I believe I am a god I will never hear that music again. Then, I wake up. It doesn’t matter why this dream happens (subconscious thoughts or random firings of neurons). I am just thankful for it.
What I’m saying seems harsh to some people. However, it is all the same reminder. The first part is that I can not save myself and attain perfection any more than I could add to my husband’s life through the magic of anxiety. The second part is that God does love us. He sent Jesus to die for us so we can have eternal life. I am redeemed through Christ’s death and through Christ I will see my husband again. No matter what happens to this body that future is secure.
All of this doesn’t mean I won’t worry again. It is likely that anxiety will trouble me all of my life. I will sin again in many ways. I will need more reminders throughout my life. I give thanks that I can repent and receive forgiveness. I give thanks that I will not be swallowed by that arrogance, doubt and fear. I give thanks for God’s mercy and love. I also give thanks for songs that remind us of this love.