Friday, March 15

No worries

I tend to flippantly use the phrase no worries in response to any number of scenarios. As in when a friend says, can we reschedule our run today? and I text back, no worries. Or a co-worker is late with an article for a newsletter. No worries.

Sometimes I mean it, sometimes I don't. At times, I don't know I didn't mean it until I realize I'm deep in anxious thought over the matter.

More often than I care to admit, I am worrying. If I am quiet, you can assume that 85% of the time I am over-thinking something. And many times I am not aware I am doing it. I knew this was a big problem when, recently, I stopped my talkative daughter in the car from sharing her long story because I couldn't think above it. I couldn't multi-task handling the worry-thoughts with being a good listener. Ouch.

Worry makes me tired. There will be times when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and see that bone-weary look in my eyes. They hide nothing. Just a glimpse of that tired soul scares me. Because I may not be physically tired, but emotionally spent, mentally drained. I am too young to feel that old.

This week, I happened to read the best-timed devotional ever in a new book I picked up (Jesus Calling. This is an official recommendation.) It's written from the perspective of Jesus talking directly to us. Especially liked this: "A life lived close to Me will never be dull or predictable. Expect each day to contain surprises! Resist your tendency to search for the easiest route through the day. Be willing to follow where I lead. No matter how steep or treacherous the path before you, the safest place to be is by My side."

Well, according to this, there is no room for worry. None. Because apparently the day is not up to me and will include twists and turns that I might not like. Some of you are already really good at acknowledging this; I'm always impressed by your ability to roll with the punches. Sure, I might belt out a hearty No worries! when I have to walk a path unplanned but I might be totally lying. Not blatantly lying, but more like lying to myself. In my head the wheels are already churning with worry even before it surfaces.

But what if those wheels just stopped.

And I didn't sweat the next car repair. I let a deadline pass without panic. Had confidence my daughter's day will go exactly as He has planned, even if there's trouble. Believed a decision was the best one I could make at the time. Was confident in my relationships. Was sure the schedule would work itself out.

Really, what do we have to worry about?

I loved the first part of the devotional, which said, "Try to view each day as an adventure carefully planned out by your Guide." It struck me that's the reason I started this blog - to find those daily adventures put in our path. I headed on this journey to abandon things like worry and over-planning.

So, here's what happened yesterday, the afternoon I read that little chapter. The sun finally peeked out after a strange morning of rain-snow and clouds. I ushered the kids outside. Peyton and I played football. Sam took to her scooter.

We may have been walking our cats around on leashes outside, but I don't really want to admit that.

Anyway - early in the week it had rained, then froze again. A sled outside had collected the water and formed a pretty slick ice sculpture that, when dumped out of the sled fully intact, looked like a surfboard. So. cool.

The kids went bananas. They posed with the ice-board. They propped it up and protected its base with snow. They slid little figurines down it, pretending they were snowboarding. At one point, I said, "Hey, I'll pay you $20 if you go get your bathing suit on and run around outside."

Now, it was about 30 degrees. There's still too much snow on the ground. Samantha is usually the one who takes me up on the wear-shorts-in-the-winter kind of dares, so I expected to pay to see her in her bikini. But from the corner, young Peyton - who hates being cold - piped up and said, "I'll do it! For $20!" 

Alrighty then. He ran up and tugged on his swim trunks on and swim shirt (he is never shirtless), and out he came to pose with the surfboard. Then, for good measure, I made him run around the house twice. After that, he decided he was warm enough to stay outside in that get-up for another 20 minutes.

hang 10 baby. surf's up, life is good.


That's what God delivered yesterday. It felt good to live in that moment, despite the deadlines closing in on me for evening activities. For 45 minutes, they didn't exist.

I have a feeling every moment is supposed to feel like that. Present. Rich, full, and fun. Not in our hands, but in His.

Can't wait to hear your adventures from the weekend.

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