On Worried Women And Backup Plans
Olympians are sickeningly brave. Women make multiple flips on top of a 4-inch wide balance beam without any worry for the neck they might break if they fall. Men fling themselves onto massive ocean waves above sharp reefs knowing a wipe out could mean drowning. It’s all right. I worry enough for them, biting my lip over the helmetless rugby players and cringing for the racer leaping the hurdles. They may not be aware that disaster is looming, but I am. My stomach is tight; my hands are clenched. What are these crazy people doing??
I’ve always been a disaster “prophet.” I can tell you all the bad things that might happen at any time of the day. A house fire, a kidnapping, a nuclear war—at any moment, anything I love can be taken away. Covid didn’t help. I have seen stores run dry of whole wheat flour and toilet paper! What if that happens again??
In my most frightened moments, as a way of seeking peace again, I run through a mental list of safety plans…the savings account, items in the attic I might sell, the insurance policy…my heart beat slows. My husband and I are not disaster preppers, but we do have a little bit of cushion. The problem with cushion, of course, is that one medical emergency can strip the savings. One house fire can take all the items worth anything. Shoot, a nuclear war can wipe out every bit of cushion in one blow—not to mention the gas stations, the hospitals, the cell towers. Then what? And just like that, my fear is back.
You know who else was brave? The disciples of Jesus. They left home without a second shirt or a bag of coins. No backup plan in their minds. No protection against strangers who might jeer or attack them. I’m sure their mothers warned them of what might happen. “What if it gets cold? What if you get sick? Can’t you at least take some bread? Pack a warm sweater?”
Perhaps those same mothers were horrified at what Jesus preached about backup plans.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Luke 12: 22-34)
I can hear those mamas now. “He said to sell your possessions? He said not to worry about food? Did I raise you just to see you starve to death? What will you use to pay for taxes? What will you give to your bride’s family? He said not to worry about clothes? What if the moths destroy your one tunic? What will you wear then?”
“Mama,” those boys reply. “Mama, Jesus says He will take care of us.”
“How?” the mothers counter. “Jesus doesn’t have a place to lay his head.”
“Mama,” the boys answer, “Mama, remember the manna? Remember the parting of the Red Sea?”
“Don’t you talk to me about the manna and the Red Sea. The Israelites carried gold and silver out of Egypt. They had savings.”
“Mama, don’t worry. God will take care of us.”
I try speaking to myself like a disciple to his mother. “Jett, remember the manna? Remember the parting of the Red Sea? Remember how someone anonymously left money for your family at the church office? Remember how the two girls who spoke English appeared to help you when you lost your credit card in Italy? Remember how someone else paid the hospital bill the year you didn’t have insurance? God takes care of you. Jesus said it’s His pleasure to give you what you need as well as the very kingdom.” I know God provides. He knows best what I need, and it is His pleasure to give me the promise of the kingdom.
Sometimes the truth calms me. Sometimes it doesn’t, and I have to fall to my knees to ask forgiveness again for my unbelief. I tell Him again what it is I’m worried about: a car crash, Lyme disease, tornados, stock market crashes, chemicals in the water. I ask again for His protection, peace, and provision. Again, I seek the treasure of His kingdom like He told me. It’s a never-ending cycle, this fear, prayer, and calming. But it’s a cycle that keeps me circling around my Savior, right where I am supposed to be, dependent on the One Who Clothes The Lilies.
