I, sadly, am a worrier by nature. Sinful nature, that is. I do believe that worry is a sin. It exhibits a lack of trust in the God who made us and loves us. It demonstrates disbelief in the ability and character of the Keeper of all things. It says to God that not only do I not trust that He can take care of everything I need; it tells him that I don’t believe He will. And, of course, it shows God (and others) that I do not take Him at His word. There are more verses than I will quote that tell us not to worry—to cast our cares on Him (1 Ptr 5:7); to not be anxious about anything (Phil. 4:6); that good and perfect gifts come from above (James 1:17). The Bible is full of the ways that God can and does care for us.

So why is it still so easy to fall into the trap of worrying? It’s not even like it is a “fun” sin. (I know…some of you are totally shocked I just indicated that some sin is fun. But isn’t it? Or at least don’t we believe it to be? Isn’t that at least some of the reason we sometimes choose to sin? Maybe that’s just me and I have revealed a bit too much of myself. But I digress…)

Worrying is stressful and exhausting; it makes me feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. It causes me to become haphazard and self-absorbed and blind to all the blessings in my life. And it accomplishes NOTHING positive—nothing at all. It is a waste of time and energy and resources. And it is a major distraction. I don’t even want to know how much time I have wasted, or how many relationships I have wounded worrying about circumstances, or situations, or people, or the future. I am confident it is a shameful amount.

You know, I think that worrying is also a sin because it gives me a false idea that I can be god. Not so much in the literal sense—but doesn’t worrying somehow indicate that I think I can control things? At least for me, so much of my worrying is about control. I want it. I believe I need it. And that is true because I don’t believe rightly about the One who has it. It is absurd, really, that I should think I could do better than God at caring for myself, my family, and my friends. It is absurd that I should believe He wants less for me than the best–HIS best.

Yet, here I am again, waiting at the feet of worry rather than resting in the arms of Jesus. Even just last night, I voiced my (unfounded) concern about our present and our future in light of our past. I struggle to trust that we are right where we need to be; right where God desires us to be; and even right where we truly want to be. I am haunted by my perception of the affect of past situations and circumstances rather than clinging to the God who is true, and unchanging, and who cares more for me than I could ever understand or even fully know. I am stuck in the trap of wanting to direct my steps rather than just make my plans. And I vacillate between boldly stepping out in faith and being paralyzed by fear.

And it boils down to trust. Do I trust Him? Will I trust Him? Will I trust that even if or when the canvas looks bleak to me, that the Master Artist is in the midst of a Great Work? Will I choose to believe that God is good? All the time? And that He is good to me? Even if and when it doesn’t feel like it or seem like it? Will I trust that His definition of good is truly good even when my perception is skewed?

I sure hope so.

God, help me to believe that you are good and trustworthy and true. Transform my mind so that my vision is no longer skewed–so that I can see you for who you truly are, and trust you accordingly.

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