Yesterday, Glen was preaching. I’d love to say I was fully focused on the sermon and cheering him on. But my brain had hopped out the window and was running for the hills. I had other things on my mind. Important things.
Things that were broken and needed to be fixed.
A sore throat. My website, which had crashed*. A broken picture that needed mended. Cracked eggs that needed to be used up. The leaking fridge. The boiler that blew up.
And anyway, I’d read the passage before. Matthew 6:25-34. The bit where Jesus tells His disciples ‘Not to worry’.
Which is nice.
Except, thinking about it – it’s not.
It’s frustrating and insulting and unrealistic and stupid.
Mainly tho, it’s just impossible.
‘Do not worry.’
Outwardly, I nodded.
Thanks Jesus, I’ll take that on board. Didn’t think of not worrying before, but now I’ll stop.
Inwardly however, I did something completely different.
Cut me open and I’m a rock of panic.Telling me not to worry is like telling me to be purple. Or a marshmallow.
The boiler breaking. The car that just won’t start.The cracked relationship.The boggy brain.The friends in crisis.The overdraft.The EGGSTHEEGGSTHEEGGS
AND NOW I FEEL GUILTY FOR WORRYING TOO.
How is this good news?
Listen to his sermon and find out.
* thanks so much to everyone who gave advice and helped get the site up and running – and apologies if you weren’t able to access it. Hoping to get back to normal very soon.
image source: here