Wed, July 31

The man in our story believes he can deal with his anxiety by securing his future. That’s the false promise of security. I once heard of a man who wanted to move his family to a safe place – he researched and studied what the safest place on earth could be, and finally moved them to the Falkland Islands, an untroubled island paradise with more sheep than people. Until a war broke out…
 
Anxiety doesn’t come out of nowhere – we usually have some good reasons to worry about the things we do. And yet, worry can magnify the problem, and distract us from strategies for dealing with it.

Worry is like a guest who shows up unannounced, to whom we extend more hospitality than is needed, making room for it, giving it comfortable seat on the couch, feeding it with new data and bits of uncertainty. For some, worry is a permanent houseguest who’s become part of the household. Might be time to say, “Sayonara, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
 
And then make some space for another guest who’s been asking to visit – trust. The more space we make for trust, the less we’ll have for worry. (Of course, if you have a really big house you can try to host them both…. But mealtimes get really messy…!)

The man in Jesus’ story, after building his bigger barns, says to himself, “Relax! Eat, drink, be merry.” We often associate relaxing with consuming. We can do better to fill the space with more beneficial strategies. St. Paul, in his prescription for anxiety, says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. And the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, will guard your heart and your thoughts in Christ Jesus.”

Make your requests known to God, with thanksgiving.
List them, in faith. Give thanks for everything you can think of – that also builds up our faith, as we remember God’s faithfulness and blessing. Anxiety has a way of messing with our perspective. Prayer restores it.

I’m learning to do that earlier and earlier, as soon as I’m aware of worrying about anything – health, finances, a meeting, a thing on the to-do list still undone, the outcome of an initiative. ’m saying, “Oh yeah, God, that’s your work. You’re just inviting me to participate in it. I’m not responsible for the outcome,” or “I can’t control what happens with this – I invite you to be in it.” And that peace comes. Sooner and sooner.
 
Try it with something you're anxious about. Do both the asking and the thanking - and then expect the peace of Christ. It does come.

The more we fill our minds with trust and hope and faith and love and all those wonderful promises of God, the less room we have for worry. And then we don’t need bigger barns, for we will find we have bigger hearts.