|Posted by Mary Webb on February 27, 2015 at 2:10 PM|
This is so sad of me, and one of the very few things I dislike about myself: But, as if I don't have enough things to worry about, I worry about things that MAY (or may not) happen to me down the line.
Let me rephrase. As if the kids don't give me enough to worry about, I worry about things that MAY (or may not) happen to them down the line. It'll be like, what am I going to do if Quentin starts using drugs? Except he's the one who smelled the reefer of the kids in the row in front of us at the Kanye West concert last year, and exclaimed loudly, "What is that smell? It stanks!" So, maybe I'm good. Or, what if Jory decides to drop out of school? Except I watch her playing teacher and swear I pick up best-practice techniques from her.
So, this worrying is nonsense to me for several reasons. The obvious one is that worrying about something is pointless in and of itself. But, second, the things I actually have to worry about, I've somewhat perfected shaking off the things that's bugging me and putting it into the Lord's hands.
But, I'm letting distant what-ifs affect my mental state?
Luckily, I serve a God who will send me a word that will settle my spirit and soothe my soul even more than that lavender bath to which I just got put on. That was the case the other day when The Daily Bread offered the word from Mark 9:14-27. It was about the little dude who was possessed by an unclean spirit. His father had asked the disciples to drive it out, but they could not.
"You unbelieving generation," Jesus replied," how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy to me."
I don't have to say, but you know the Lord did his thing. The crowd thought the boy was dead because, when the spirit came out of him, he fell to the ground and looked like a corpse. For the still unbelieving, Jesus simply took the boy by the hand and lifted him to his feet, and he stood up.
So, even if my lovable son turns into a sullen teenager who battles an addiction or my intelligent daughter lets some obstacle dash her dreams of higher education, I know it's possible to have this struggle, as well as have them overcome it. Yes, there will be some agony and some tears, but I have his words to sustain me: "Bring him to Me," (Mark 9:19).
I'm practicing now. It appears that Quentin has vertigo. I know already that the ENT doctor will see on Good Friday, with the Resurrected Lord's help, will settle that for him.
I'll finish with words from The Daily Bread to sustain you, too.
Father, I lift my beloved to You, knowing that
You love him/her even more than I do and
You understand just what to do to meet his need.
I commit him/her to your care.