When I was little, we often slept with the windows open in our un-air-conditioned house. At night, I could sometimes hear a train off in the distance. To me, the thrumming, throbbing pulse of the train sounded like a giant stomping across the hills. And, of course, anything you imagine is ten times more real when you imagine it in bed, after dark, when you’re supposed to be asleep.
I was so afraid of that giant and I just knew he was going to stride right over the hilltop outside my window at any moment. Which placed me in a quandary. Did I open the curtains, so I could see him coming? Or did I leave the curtains closed, so he couldn’t see me?
Seriously, I lost some childhood sleep pondering this question. Throw the curtain back so my view is clear? Or cower behind the fluttery, white fabric? Well, guess what. It didn’t matter in the least. There was no giant. There was no seeing in or seeing out. There was nothing to worry about.
Will my next book do well? Or will it be a flop?
Will I meet my goals at work? Or will I come up short?
Will I meet people’s expectations? Or will they discover I’m faking it?
Will I ever learn to trust God? Or will He keep having to grab my attention?
OR does God have a wonderful, amazing, heaven-shaking plan to use me for his glory that I can’t even begin to imagine?
How much of my life have I wasted worrying? How much sleep have I lost pondering two equally foolish options? The train as a giant story is a fine example of the folly of childhood. But have I really grown up? Or am I still worrying about the coming calamity that’s really just a train headed in another direction altogether?
Matthew 6:27 & 34 – Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
