Every now and then, I think in my weak moments, I become a worrywart. Ever been there? Isn’t it a fun place to be? I worry about the flu shot – did they really give me the old people’s shot – the stronger one? Why did the waiter bring me sweet tea when I ordered unsweet. Whoever thought that extra lemon for that unsweet tea equals one more slice? Can I really be mistaken for the Pillsbury Doughboy?
Which is going to give out first: Heart, kidneys, liver? Here is the good one: With a defibrillator and a pacemaker implant, if my heart stops will I seem like a freshly caught fish on the dock… jumping up repeatedly? I think that would be funny if it were not happening to me.
Will my retention of fluid and my kidney function numbers remain at the right ratio or will we continue to play this game of more fluid, more medication every few weeks? And then cut back on the meds because the ratio is out of wack?
Sometimes I just worry too much… and I know better. Why is it so hard to turn all this “Stuff” over to God? I’ve studied scripture and I know we are to cast all our cares on God. I give them and then I take them back as if God can’t be trusted to do the right thing.
And so I pray: O God, show me how to release each worry heavenward. In the big problems of the world and in the small details of my life, you are there. You, who spun the galaxies into space, hold my worry filled heart and give me peace. Amen.