“But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.” Romans 8:25
The Lord convicted me about worrying the other day. I know it was Him.
You see, I spend a lot of time—I mean, a really lot—hoping for things I don’t have. I’m not so much talking about material things, though I must confess that’s some of it. But mainly I want other things. You know, the good stuff. Same as you want. We want more for our family members, especially those who don’t know the Lord or those who are suffering under cruel bondage. We want to be better ministers—more able ministers. We want to be better Christians.
If we believe that God has already provided, through the cross, a grace for every need, then we struggle with our faith, pumping it up until it’s strong enough to access that grace. If we have a different point of view and don’t necessarily know whether God’s will is going to be pleasant or unpleasant, then we wrestle in prayer, hoping for the best.
Either way, it looks a lot like fretting.
Worry is a powerful force. It’s so strong, in fact, that in Matthew 13:22, Jesus said the cares of this world could actually smother the Word of God and make it unfruitful. That’s powerful! I don’t want to touch anything with a ten-foot pole that is strong enough to strangle the fruit-bearing ability of the Word God has sent to meet my need, do you?
Yet, I am often troubled in my mind.
I have a stable job as a civil servant. Every two weeks Uncle Sam sends a paycheck. He has never failed. Even when Congress couldn’t get together on a budget, that paycheck just kept coming. I look forward to payday, never worrying about whether or not it will arrive. It’s always every other Tuesday.
I have a stable covenant as a believer. So why do I worry about whether the things the Lord has promised me will be on time? He’s got to be at least as reliable as the U.S. Government. Maybe the reason I worry is that I haven’t built enough experience recognizing His faithfulness to me in the past. Maybe when He came through for me, I didn’t even remember that it was because I had asked. Maybe I didn’t thank Him for my answer. Maybe I didn’t honor Him with it.
Or perhaps I don’t believe He has come through for me in the past. If that’s the case, then maybe, just maybe, my very worry over a situation has delayed God’s answer by choking the life out of the Word He sent to turn that situation.
Faith is rest. “Rest in Me,” says the Lord. “Cast the care of it over on Me.”
I’m going to try an experiment. I’m going to just believe. Believe like I believe in payday. Believe like I believe in Christmas. Believe like I believe in spring and autumn, seedtime and harvest. I think I’ll just forget all my cares and look forward to the good stuff, as if I already know it’s coming no matter what I see.
Will you join me?