Worry is a Choice

I confess: I am a worrier. I don’t mean to be, but my constitution is such that I am always living some distance into the future. Sometimes that is a pleasant place to live when the prospects are clearly good. However, when the situation is unclear or clearly bad in some way, I tend to imagine what ill may fall. I rationalize this behavior by telling myself that I am simply preparing for the worst so that I am ready when it happens. I still live by the Boy Scout motto I learned when I was twelve: be prepared.

You can see, no doubt, that this is hooey. What I am doing is worrying about something that may or may not happen. “Be prepared” means taking your umbrella if the forecast promises rain or carrying chains in the trunk if you drive the mountains in winter. My little game of “what if” is just worry in a thin disguise. And worry is prohibited by my Master, a fact that was brought poignantly home to me this morning.

I listened to a sermon from Capital Church in Salt Lake City because I am away from home this Sunday. The guest speaker, Heather Zemple, preached on Matthew 6:25-34. That’s the part of the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus says, “Do not be anxious about your life.” The Greek word translated “anxious” means to take care concerning something, also translated by some as “worry.” Heather correctly points out that anxiety can have chemical or psychological causes that require professional attention. This is not the kind of thing Jesus was addressing; He meant that I should stop playing “what if” with every little situation that does not appear to have a wonderful outcome. In other words, stop worrying.

My rational mind knows I am not supposed to worry. I don’t often harbor worried thoughts in my mind, but my gut does. I tend to center my worry subconsciously in my stomach. It can be quite uncomfortable. At one point some time ago, I was rushed to the hospital thinking I was having a heart attack, only to discover it was my gastro-intestinal system crying out with worry. This is frequently where ulcers come from. I have learned to listen to my stomach and to ferret out the fret that is causing the discomfort. This condition indicates that I have been inappropriately dealing with something that needs to be addressed.

Heather led me to the answer to the problem of worry. It is found in Paul’s letter to the Philippians where he counsels us to worry about nothing, but to pray about everything. (4:6) He follows that admonition with one of the best promises in Scripture: “And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hears and your minds in Christ Jesus.” In other words, worry is a choice; neither Jesus nor Paul would command us not to worry if that were impossible. It is our choice to worry about something, or to pray about it and trust God to work it out. We can choose to worry, or we can lean on God and have peace.

Heather wisely pointed out that this does not mean we will necessarily be delivered from all our troubles. The well-known twenty-third Psalm says the divine Shepherd is with us “when [we] walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” Or as the popular song says, He will be with us through the storm rather than taking away the storm. Heather said if we trust God’s character, we can rest in the chaos. No worries. This does not mean we abandon our duties or escape into frivolous diversions. It means that we press on regardless of the circumstances knowing that God is in every circumstance working “all things for the good of them that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

I received a wonderful confirmation of this lesson today. I have been trying not to worry that we may not have enough money to meet our obligations this month. After the sermon this morning, I confessed my worry and thanked God that He provides for me on a regular basis. When I checked the bank balance to see how far behind we would be, I discovered an automatic deposit that I had forgotten. We are fine, not rich, but fine. Back in Philippians Paul said that he had learned to be content, at peace, in whatever circumstance he was in. I am still working on that. For today anyway, I choose not to worry.