You know how just when it feels like you’ve got something figured out you realize there’s a bazillion more somethings in life that need figuring. No? Just me?
Well, I like to think I know myself quite well. Feed me soup for every meal and I’m a happy camper. Fakeness makes me want to throw up. My struggle is feeling like I deserve things. It would seem I’ve got a handle on my preferences and inner workings, right?
I’ve never been an anxious person and I, if I were to be completely honest, didn’t really understand those who struggled with it. We know God is in control. We trust Him. He wants our good. End of story. What’s there to be anxious about?
Well it seems, my friends, that anxiety is out to show me what it feels like and I don’t like it, not one little bit. It’s been nothing overly alarming, hardly anything worthy of sharing on the anxiety scale, but every now and then I feel it. It starts like a pit in the deepest gallows of my tummy and trickles its way to my extremities. From there it twists and turns it’s way to the front of my head to induce squinting and that slight throbbing just behind the temples before it hits full force into my brain. It’s only then that I realize it’s happening, this taking over of my very being by something that I don’t like at. all.
Scripture is very clear on this. (Is 35:4, Mt. 6:25, Mk. 13:11, Lk 12:11, Phil 4:6) We are not to be anxious about anything. Not about what we may say or do or who may come upon us. Not about what we will eat or drink or how we will clothe ourselves. We are to know that He is with us and that everything comes from Him. I know this. I do. But I forget.
So as we hit the last day of school tomorrow (can I get an Hallelujah!?) I find myself looking at the calendar at all the days already pre-planned with excitement and a bit of hesitancy. Each of those plans serves as a marker of a day gone. Once that day is done it’s one less day of summer and one step closer to swooshing my boys out the door for another hectic school year.
I’m anxious about summer coming to an end before it has even begun. It’s silly. I know. But I find myself anxious about the things I want to hold on to so tightly. Perhaps too tightly. I cherish the summer with my boys. We play, we run, we spit watermelon seeds and read around the campfire every single day. We hike and bike and play tennis and eat foods that can hardly be called food because it’s summer! We make up tall tales and remember summers past and we play charades and we act like each other and then we get a bit mad until we remember that it’s suppose to be funny and we’re humbled by seeing our own demeanor being recreated by someone else.
I’m holding on tightly to these things. I want to savour every second. Every story. Every snuggle. I don’t want September to ever come, though I know it must. And so, even thinking about it now that thing in my stomach has started and I have to preach truth to myself. The boys are growing up. You only have them in your grasp for so long. You need to not hold on quite so tightly to things that you know aren’t yours to hold onto. God is good. He has blessed you with these boys. They need to grow and learn and spread their wings.
Just not. quite. yet.
They are mine. They are His. I need to give them back to Him every single day to avoid the anxiousness of losing them. I can’t lose something that I’ve given. They are in His hands. This summer is in His hands. Every day of it.
“This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24