Saturday, August 2, 2008


"And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his [Or height] life's span?" luke 12: 25

I just pressed "redial" for the 10th time in the last hour.

I've been trying to get in touch with Don all day-- he and a friend of his are kayaking somewhere today and I expected him back hours ago. But I'm kicking myself because I don't know exactly where they are kayaking and I guess I just sort of assumed they'd be back by 3 or 4. I mean, he left before I left for a team meeting this morning, around 8 a.m. He was sort of trying to tell me that he might be allllll day, I think, so I shouldn't worry, but of course I am. Did I worry like this before he fell off the scaffold?

I seem to always forget that the Lord has guarded us every day of our lives. I forget that God loves my husband more than I love him. I forget that I am married to a man who served in the Navy for 4 years and hikes and fixes things and is not stupid. I forget that he always forgets to power up his cell phone, so not answering it means that 1) the phone is dead, 2) the phone is safely in his truck so it won't drop in the river, or 3) in the river.

Still no answer.

I just saw that there are severe storm warnings and as I mentioned, I don't know where he is exactly. Normally we have all of each other's information, but I was rushing out the door and nervous about leading worship for the first time in a while and was completely distracted. I'm not even sure what he was wearing. Why didn't I pay closer attention?

So I place him in the Lord's hands again and always. He is just precious to me, and it's not precious like "preshuss" -- I waited so long for him. I waited and waited, and there he was, the most amazing friend I ever had, the most wonderful husband-- perfect for me. A perfect fit intellectually, spiritually, personally...everything. He is not replaceable.

Worry gnaws away at your gut like a rat and there seems to be no salve, no balm for it until it is relieved. Sometimes I struggle with it so intensely, it feels like being stuck in a labyrinth-- no out, no way through, just longing for relief. Have you been there? Where imagination begins to take over?

Imagination, vain imaginings, kicks in and I picture his beloved body crushed at the foot of a scaffold, chipped and bruised. I relive something I never saw-- his feet sliding down a brick wall, his body hanging in the air, no one around-- no one saw him fall but Jesus. Even he doesn't remember. I imagine how close he came to leaving me and I begin to panic again... and I dial his number again and forbid myself from looking at the weather report again.

That does not produce one valuable thing. I don't clean when I am worried. I don't read. I don't do anything productive. I seize up, feel paralyzed, feel sick and stunned with it. And I despise it.

So I pray again for his safety, for his phone call, for his life-- and I remember that worrying does not add one moment to any of our lives and I think that it must take away from mine. I want to become more like Jesus, looking up to my Father in heaven and trusting Him to be perfectly wise and strong and able to care for my husband. I want to be full of faith like that.

But I am grateful that, until I have grasped that kind of faith-- until I have been delivered of this spirit of fear-- His grace is able to cover both of us. All of us.

1 comment:

Tom said...

hey Sam......I was just writing down somethoughts the other day saying that Jesus needed to write a second parable about worry and use another example other than the birds of the air.........Today I saw a bunch of troubled and anxious birds trying to fight me and the other birds away from the Fig tree. I'm lifting up Don as well.