The Walk
Last week, Matt and I took Thomas for a walk around the cabins at Hume Lake. At first, he was content to simply ride along as we pushed him on his tricycle. After a while, he wanted to walk alongside us. After a bit longer, Thomas started to get tired from trekking up and down hills and took off his jacket despite the cold air. He jettisoned his ubiquitous Mickey ear hat a few minutes later. Finally, he stopped in front of me, held his arms up, and demanded that I carry him. No more riding along, definitely no more walking, he hit his limit and only mama’s arms would do for the rest of the walk home.
Later that night, I, too, felt like I hit my limit. I mentioned a few posts back that I had a crazy week with all kinds of random bad stuff, including dental emergencies. It turns out that the bad luck has continued. I’ve been to the dentist 6 times now since my initial visit for planned and unplanned stuff. It has felt like a never ending issue which was finally put to bed a couple weeks ago…or so I thought. As I made dinner that night, my tongue touched a tooth and I thought I felt a new chip. Here we go again! Only this time, I’ve maxed out my yearly dental insurance, so anything else that happens comes out of my already depleted pocket.
At first, I carried this fear around like a dark cloud over my head. Then, I woefully mentioned my new discovery at dinner, eliciting sympathy from my dining companions. Even after we joked about it and moved on, I could hear this issue nagging in the back of my mind. “What are you going to do? Was it really a new chip? What if you need another new crown, without the benefit of insurance?” Round and round it goes until I’m distracted and exhausted.
I, like Thomas handing over his light jacket and hat, will offer my worry to the Lord in surfacy prayers, “Father, make this all better” while I continue to trudge along, burdened by the crushing weight of real worries. It’s only when I get exhausted that I finally stop and ask him to carry me because I can’t go another step. Last week, I was that exhausted.
Much as I tried to talk myself out of worry, I didn’t have any easy answers. I only had questions, “Why does it take me so long to ask God to carry me? Why do I wait until I’m completely exhausted before honest conversations with the one who already knows my heart?” I still don’t have an answer or even a plan for how to do better in the future. My only plan is to start with an aforementioned honest conversation now.
Heavenly Father, I’m beyond tired. I ache with worry and I need you to carry me. I’m sorry that it took me so long to admit this, but I pray you’d begin to replace my anxiety with your peace. I pray that you’d grow my faith so that Philippians 4:6 would be my go-to response and 4:7 would be my reality.
6 Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.