Walking in a Winter Worryland

I'm a worrier by nature. I never really knew this about myself until a few years ago I was talking to my sister about one of her children. She was describing my niece to me and she said, "She's a worrier...a lot like you." (I took me a minute to figure out that she said "worrier" not "warrior". That was disappointing, but far more accurate, I suppose.)

In retrospect, though, I had to admit she was completely on point.

When my dad was late coming home from work, I assumed he had been in a horrible accident.
When I can't get a hold of a family member, surely some great danger has befallen them.
When I get a phone call from someone out of the blue, I'm positive they're going to relay some tragic message.
I won't even tell you the thoughts that went through my mind when I was in VA and I couldn't get a hold of my husband in TX all night. (I put him on NyQuil probation after that one.)

My husband told me last night I come up with the worst possible scenario on my mind and then act as if it's the reality of my life.

So here I sit, totally stressing myself out about things over which I have absolutely no control and, frankly, things that I'm not even sure are the case. And I say to myself worry is a sin. I remind myself to cast all my cares on Him. I'm trying to present my request with thanksgiving and then let it go.

But I still have a knot in my stomach.

How do we really, genuinely, completely lay our anxieties down? I'm sitting here in a rare, quiet moment trying to be the good Christian who trusts her God.

But my head is throbbing.

In my prayers I plead with God to help me trust Him. I know He is good. I know He cares. I know His hands are capable. I know my hands are not.

But when I think about it, my heart races.

And then I read some words that pierced through the dark, anxious cloud hanging around me.
Our lives are full of supposes. Suppose this should happen, or suppose that should happen; what could we do; how could we bear it? But, if we are living in the high tower of the dwelling place of God, all these supposes will drop out of our lives. We shall be quiet from the fear of evil, for no threatenings of evil can penetrate into the high tower of God. Even when walking through the valley of the shadow of death, the psalmist could say, will fear no evil; and, if we are dwelling in God, we can say so too.
~Hannah Whitall Smith

You see, it makes all the difference when I consider my vantage point. I am not lying on the ground being buried under the troubles of this life. I am high above the worried world, safe and secure in the Shelter of the Most High God. What, for crying out loud, am I so very afraid of?

My tummy is still a little fluttery. My head definitely still hurts. I'm very much looking forward to getting some answers and putting this all behind me.

But, under the wings of God is a very good place to be. There is rest here. There is comfort here. There is a nice, gentle breeze up this high. And I'm very willing to scoot over if you want to join me up here.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

~Psalm 91:1-2,4