I don't know for sure how it starts;
usually it's something as simple as a friend running a few minutes
behind or remembering that a bill due today is yet unpaid. Or sometimes
all it takes is a twinge of pain in my back or my side. Somehow, any one
of these things becomes a choice: I can trust the Lord and grow or give
in to worry and shrink back. Too often, I end up worrying about car
accidents and having my electricity shut off and about a sudden return
of the cancer I have beat three times.
My sanctification has taken a lot of
twists and turns in the years since I came to know Jesus. I've run up
against discontentment and jealousy; I've played recklessly with lust
and gluttony; I continue to stare down pride. I've had victories - when
I've been truly happy for others' successes. I've had failures when I
spoke harshly and bitterly to others when I couldn't have my way.
But through all the years of becoming
more like Jesus, worry is the sin I fear the most. Ironic, isn't it?
Worrying about worrying? That's the poison of this sin. Even my
sanctification itself becomes the object of my sin. I worry that I am
not praying enough, that I am not resisting sin like I should, that my
Bible reading or acts of service are lagging behind. When I fear the
future, I liberate myself for too little faith.
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I recently wrote this article for my church's blog and wanted to share it here. Hope you will click through and finish reading this essay.
Photo by Jim Sneddon, used with permission under the Creative Commons License.
