The man in this week's 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 relocated 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 good reasons to worry about the things we do. Yet worry can magnify a problem and distract us from strategies for dealing with it. Anxiety is a guest who shows up unannounced; too often we extend it 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, anxiety is a houseguest who’s become part of the household. Might be time to say, “Sayonara, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
And then make space for another guest who’s been asking to visit – faith. The more space we make for faith, the less we’ll have for fear. I once read an interview with the actor John Heard, and this quote stuck with me: “When you’re living by fear, you’re always looking for security. When you’re living by faith, you’re always looking for freedom.”
The man in Jesus’ story was looking for security. After building his bigger barns, says to himself, “Relax! Eat, drink, be merry.” We often associate relaxing with consuming. We 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.”
Let’s start with where we locate our security. Take a moment, maybe write a list: What in your life makes your feel scared? What in your life makes you feel safe? Look at your lists. Invite God into the things that raise your anxiety.
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, as soon as I’m aware of worrying about something – health, finances, a meeting, a thing on the to-do list still undone, the outcome of an initiative. I say, “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 fear. Then we don’t need bigger barns, for we will find we have bigger hearts.
