I worry about whether Seven will maintain her never-astute interest in nursing past the one year mark.
I worry that Atticus isn't just slightly eclectic, but is actually noticeably different.
I worry that Bee is walking to school alone.
I worry that Mr. Blandings will lose his job come election time.
I worry that Jo is too sweet, and the Soccer Mom down the street is right--"normal" teen girls are just nasty.
I worry that Logan has a more serious auditory processing problem than I realize, and he will suffer for my lack of attention to it in adulthood.
I worry that my grandparents are too ill to take care of themselves.
I worry that Mani will have a hard time grappling with the facts of his adoption.
I worry that I'm going to hate the weather in Nepal.
|Oli (left) will be 5 in December. Mani (right) just turned 3.|
I worry that Oli is never going to claw his way on to the growth charts.
The list goes on and on. If I wanted to, I could probably conjure a concern for each of the 24 hours in a day, and not repeat a single one.
Right now, I am in a season where I am constantly beset by things that, if I gave them power, could cause me immeasurable worry. There's the fundraising, the new high schooler, the preparing to leave the country, the boys careening into new "young man" development, the unknowns of Oli's health and development, Mr. Blandings employment, my sick grandparents, et al.
Everything. There's ... everything.
Finally, realizing that I was tiptoeing into "Hey, Lord, hand that one back over to me because I think I can take it from here," territory, I recalled this verse, and was refreshed:
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.--Phillippians 4:6
Every time I try to interest Seven in nursing and fail, I need to pray. I need to thank Him for the past 11 months, and ask that if it's His will, she would keep nursing through the winter. But then I need to lay it down and release the non-existent bands of control that I keep trying to pull around the situation. The same with Bee walking to school. I can't do anything about it. I can't keep her safe, create a barrier around her, or chase away any potential baddies. But God can. When it comes to mind, I should pray. Thank God for her safety thus far, and ask that He keep watch yet again.
The list goes on and on.
You'd think I'd have learned this lesson. But somehow, it always creeps to the background when my heart starts to worry. God is in control. Pray. Just pray. And have peace.