I often tell my sons I am a better Scout than they are. After all, I live by the motto: Be Prepared. I anticipate all the things that could go wrong and plan accordingly. Rain in the forecast? I have my umbrella at the ready. Cold and flu season around the corner? My medicine cabinet is stocked. Busy day ahead? We leave early in case there’s traffic.
While being prepared is often wise and prudent, for those who are prone to worry, it can sometimes facilitate and increase that worry all the more. Being prepared involves thinking about the future. It involves anticipating trouble that may lie ahead—both of which go hand in hand with worry. I found this to be true with my own heart this summer as I helped one of my sons plan for a backpacking trip out west. I looked at the weather forecast and encouraged him to pack accordingly. I reminded him to pack extra batteries for his headlamp. We prepared for injuries by packing a first aid kit. These were all good things to do.
But then I started thinking about other things that could go wrong: getting separated from the group, encountering bears on the trail, running out of supplies, etc. Add to that the fact that he and his group would be out of cell phone range for most of the trip and I found myself worried even more about those potential troubles. Especially the bears! Those worries festered and woke me up at night. I found my mind focused on future trouble.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus speaks to weary hearts that are prone to worry about the future. He says to not worry about the daily needs of life—to not look ahead and worry about what we will eat and drink or what we will wear. He reminds us of how our Father in heaven looks after and cares for his creation, from the birds in the air to the flowers in the field and how much more important are we than they? “Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (see Matt. 6:25-34).
This is such a familiar passage, one I’ve read countless times. Yet its one that continues to teach me about my heart and about my Father in heaven. Jesus here sets limits for our worries. He tells us there are things we need to focus on and things we don’t need to focus on. He’s not telling us to lay back and do nothing to prepare for tomorrow. After all, the Bible exhorts us elsewhere to labor for our food. To plant seeds and harvest them. To work hard and not be slothful. There is a certain amount of care and concern we should have. What Jesus is speaking about here is excessive worry—worry that is future focused. Worry that lives in tomorrow and not in today. Worry that pushes us to focus on ourselves and doesn’t rest in who our Heavenly Father is for us.
“…Christ reproves that excessive anxiety, with which men torment themselves, about food and clothing, and, at the same time, applies a remedy for curing this disease. When he forbids them to be anxious, this is not to be taken literally, as if he intended to take away from his people all care. We know that men are born on the condition of having some care…But immoderate care is condemned for two reasons: either because in so doing men tease and vex themselves to no purpose, by carrying their anxiety farther than is proper or than their calling demands; or because they claim more for themselves than they have a right to do, and place such a reliance on their own industry, that they neglect to call upon God…Each of us ought to labor, as far as his calling requires and the Lord commands; and each of us ought to be led by his own wants to call upon God. Such anxiety holds an intermediate place between indolent carelessness and the unnecessary torments by which unbelievers kill themselves. But if we give proper attention to the words of Christ, we shall find, that he does not forbid every kind of care, but only what arises from distrust.”
For those of us who worry about all the things, it can be helpful to make a list of the things God calls us to do and what he does not call us to do and then see where our worries fit. For example, we might create a two-column chart with our responsibilities on one side and those that are God’s on the other. And then we can ask our heart: Are we worried about something that is our responsibility? Or God’s responsibility? Are we focused on the task we’ve been given for today? Or focused on a future that hasn’t yet happened? Are we trusting in ourselves and our own strength? Or have we submitted our cares to God and trusted him to provide what we need?
There are some worries and concerns that deserve our attention because God has entrusted us with specific tasks and responsibilities. We ought to take our child to the doctor when she is ill. We should work hard at our jobs to provide for our family. We need to fix the leaky sink before it gets worse. These are all in our realm of responsibility. But there are other worries that are not under our rule and responsibility. These concerns are the things we bring to our Father in Heaven and seek his wisdom, help, and care. That’s what Jesus pointed out in his sermon: We can trust that God provides for all our needs. The future lies in his hands.
In the situation with my son’s trip to the mountains, there were things I had the responsibility to do: help him pack what was needed for the trip, remind him of safe hiking practices, and pray for him and his troop. The rest I entrusted to God and rested in his sovereign care. No amount of worrying on my part could impact the outcome of his trip. Corrie ten Boom said it well: “Worrying doesn't empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”
And for those who are wondering, my son returned home safe and sound from his backpacking trip. And best of all, he encountered no bears!
Photo by Aubree Herrick on Unsplash
