Worry Is Like…

Worry is like sitting at a red light.  The engine is running, the gas is guzzled, but you don’t get any farther ahead.

Worry is like watching an infomercial.  You know it’s a waste of time, yet you’re entertained by the tenacity of it all.

Worry is like reading a book you don’t like.  There has to be a better book out there, but the binding has become too familiar to toss it aside.

Worry is like eating at Taco Bell. You know you shouldn’t, and you know you’ll regret it, but you’ve been convinced by an imposter Cinco De Mayo spirit that it’ll be ok.

Worry is a waste of energy that so many of us find familiar and oddly calming.  I like to worry about things I can’t fix.  But I really like it when I find another far less important thing to worry about that I can control.  This is kind of like procrastination.  When I have a real thing to write, I would rather write a bunch of jibber-jabber.

The more serious and pressing the work at hand, the more I like jibber-jabber.  The distraction is welcome.  Like an Apple Watch, worrying about the little thing on my wrist helps me feel like I don’t have to worry about the rectangle that keeps humming.

But I digress.

Jesus said “who by worrying can add a single hour to their lives?”  I wonder if he was looking at us when He said that.  I think He was.  And I think He smiles when He says it because of how much easier it could be.

When we worry, we make it really hard on ourselves.

The guys are freaking out because of a storm.  Jesus is asleep.

The family is weeping because Lazarus is dead.  Jesus is taking His sweet time to get to the tomb.

The wedding party wrung their hands when they ran out of wine.  Jesus commanded the water to party. Partay.

Jesus said “they’re going to kill me, but I’ll rise again.”  Still, the guys got worried and ran.

We worry to simulate control.  We want control because we want the most time with the least amount of pain.  We are pain averse.  Worry is one way we deal with the pain.

We get worried.  Worry crushes us.  We worry because we are crushed.  Etc.

Who by worrying can add a single hour to their lives?  He smiles when He says this.

He looks at us with compassion.

He stretches out His hand as if to say can I take that?

About radamdavidson

I'm a husband, dad, and pastor living in Portage, Michigan. I suppose I'm a euphoric melancholy generalist with average skills, experiences, and passions across several intertwined disciplines and hobbies including music, speaking, writing, leadership, ministry, and collecting cultural artifacts from the 1980's -- mostly vintage boomboxes. You can read my blog at www.radamdavidson.com, subscribe to my podcast (RadCast) or friend me on facebook.com/radamdavidson. about.me/radamdavidson
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