There is a time to worry, and there is a time to get over it. There is a time to listen to your worried friend, and there is a time for STOP IT. (see link below post)
The worry beast got me. It’s pretty much taken me hostage and forgotten to ask anyone for ransom. Kind of like hide and go seek except I’m hiding and no one’s looking. And why should they since I never told them.
I like to suffer in silence. I call it being private, but it really has more to do with not wanting to let my lack of faith show. I’m going to put an end to that right now.
(Fire up the website. This is going to be a blog post!)
I hate that I worry. I know how useless it is. It does nothing to improve the situation. It puts me off my game, and it makes my stomach all funky. And yes, I know the answer. Just stop it. (Thank you Bob Newhart. See link below.)
But that’s so much easier said than done. I’ve said it. A lot. To other people. That’s really not helpful. I mean how do you stop worrying? I can look at the facts, do what I can, pray, pray some more, journal, and know without a doubt that me wringing my hands does nothing. But I can’t just make it go away.
The only thing I can figure that might be helpful that I don’t usually do is tell someone. Back to the silence part which isn’t really silence at all. It usually involves a lot of electric guitar and more decibels than a person should hear.
Maybe talking about it would help more than I think it would. So what if someone else is surprised by my lack of faith. I’m human. Maybe that would bring on some more prayers for me, and that can’t be bad. Still, I feel like I’m letting people down, especially since I’m supposed to be this warrior and all. I’m a worried warrior, caring a little too much about things she can’t fix.
That song from Frozen just started running through my mind. No electric guitar in that one.
I was reminded this week of how it’s okay to lean on others—to call out from the hiding spot. We can hide our mistakes and struggles. Worry about them. Bury our head and hope they’ll go away. We can bottle them up and pretend like we’re okay, but then one day we’ve either disappeared or we’ve been discovered. One freezes you in a place you never wanted to be, and the other frees you.
Talking to others just might help that second one happen a little faster. So I’ve been worried, unsure, frustrated with my lack of faith, and hiding. But not anymore. Nope. I’m worried, and I can’t help it. And maybe it didn’t go away instantly like I’d hoped, but at least now I don’t feel alone.
A sweet friend told me today that God is close to those who mourn and to those who don’t hide their emotions. I know that’s true. He’s close to those who worry too.
