Everyone in the house is sleeping. But me. Audio tapes of previous conversations and questions about tomorrow play in my head. The cooing of a White-winged Dove outside my bedroom window draws me out of bed.
I venture outside to sit alone on my folk’s back patio; alone with my thoughts. But the whistle of a train passing through this small town interrupts my silence.
In a brown oak rocking chair, I watch the day unfold like a stage play. White-winged doves fly from one mesquite tree to another; resting on the branches, eating cracked corn from pet bowls sitting on the picnic table. Overhead, a T-38 jet from the neighboring Air Force base zooms by, drowning out the chorus of Grackles and Finches.
A cornfield separates me from the rural highway where people in cars speed by. They rush to jobs, run errands, hurry to medical appointments. But time doesn’t rule me today. I can read scripture and pray before the household wakes up.
Tradition brings me to the Lone Star state each year. Four generations gathered round the dining room table on Easter weekend. Thankful for God’s provision, and His Son who died on the cross and rose again. Thankful for family despite the drama.
Now it’s a weekday morning. The others have gone, and my family is staying a few more days. But who’s counting? Unless it’s true that ‘company and fish stink after three days.’ In which case, it explains why my folks have been sniffling.
I randomly open my Bible to Matthew 6:26, 27. “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single day to your life?”
A yellow Aspen leaf is pressed between the pages. I’ve been here before; the words in verse 28 are underlined: “why do you worry.”
“Why do you worry?” Take action. Pray for that person’s employment, that person’s health, that person’s relationship with Christ, and with others.
“Why do you worry?” Spoken by Jesus knowing the excruciating death that awaited Him. Knowing all but one of His disciples would be martyred. Knowing believers would be scattered and persecuted.
God, the Alpha and Omega, knows my past regrets, present concerns, my future. And still He says, “Why do you worry?”
I can rock frantically back and forth, getting no where. Absorb the drama, stand on my soap box, worry about tomorrow.
Or I can sit still in His presence. Rest on His Word and obey, “Do not worry… but seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness….” (verses 31-33)
The choice is mine…
Even in this.