But If

The other night I had trouble sleeping as my axieties swirled around in my brain.  I thought of the nonsense poem "What If" by Shel Silverstein.  In this poem, Silverstein personifies anxieties into these little creatures that are called Whatifs.  The Whatifs crawl into the narrator's ear as he tries to sleep.  The poem is considered a nonsense poem because the anxieties that the narrator is experiencing are seemingly silly, but the picture that the author paints is an all-too real one.  I began to list my Whatifs as I lay there trying to fall asleep.  I won't list them out here, but most of my fears deal with security and money.  As much as I wish I could say that all of my Whatifs were nonsense like the ones in the poem, but I can't.  In reality everyone of them could happen and many have happened before.  Not an uplifting or sleep-inducing thought. 

So where do I go from here?  In his gospel, Matthew tells me not to worry because ultimately God is in control.  For a chronic worrier this is not easy advice to take.  In fact, it is near to impossible. I have mastered the art of worry to the point that when stressed, I have an allergic reaction similar to hives on my palms, I either can't eat or eat too much, and I get heartburn that is straight from the devil himself.  I am learning though to surrender my Whatifs to God.  This is a slow lesson with me, but when I do surrender my Whatifs cease to become Whatifs and change into what I call Butstills.  The job doesn't come, but still I will be o.k. because I am not alone.  He is here with me.  I know this because when my worst Whatif became a reality, the world did not stop.  I didn't die.  I felt awful for awhile, but at my darkest point, He was there.  In my weakness He strengthened me or sent someone to be strong for me.  I must surrender the right to understand why life happens and allow Him to bring peace in the midst of my storm.  When I do this, I rob the Whatif of the power it holds over me and rest comes.