"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that 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, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Oh, how this hit me hard today. I would say that it knocked me off my feet, but I sat snuggled in a blanket on my couch as I read it this morning. I set the Book down.
How could this passage, one of my absolute favorites, not even cross my mind in the past month or so?
I've been worrying.
Sometimes without even realizing it.
But I've worried. It's in my nature. It has learned to take a more sneaky approach, I think, as i've experienced the fruitlessness of it's oppressive ways. This time was sneaky, alright, and this hit me like a boulder.
It is so strange to have been reading almost only the Old Testament these past eight months in Navigate and to suddenly land in the Gospels. I feel like i've suddenly arrived home after a long day. I throw my things on the floor in that pile of stuff that grows exponentially and barely make it to my bed before crashing into my down comforter and curling up tightly with a cool pillow. It is suddenly so rich and comfortable and familiar. It is like home. It is what 852 pages over the past 8 months have been begging and aching for.
And suddenly I am here. It was cozy for a while, and then it smacked me upside the head.
Am I not more important than birds?
...and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.
...for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I've been watching Spring unfold, watching it lurking, waiting to pounce on us like a hungry tiger behind the brush. The cold has lingered, but Spring is creeping its way in. I can smell it on the air. I see its sprouts pushing up through the dirt. l feel in my bones that it is near as I see things slowly start to come to life, to push up and to unfold. I am amazed by its intricacies, by the way the Spring just appears and life starts to grow. My eyes are caught by the light and the colors and my chest expands as I find myself taking deeper and deeper breaths.
And yet, this is just the Spring. These are just the flowers. This is just the grass, they are only the trees. My feet walk on just the dirt and my ears hear just the birds. As He clothes these simple things in their new fresh life, how can I not see how much more I will receive in comparison to grass and flowers and birds? How can I not remember how much more He cares for me? That He will "clothe me in garments of salvation and array me in a robe of righteousness. As a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest and as a bride adorns her head with jewels." (Is 61:10)
If I shift back to verse eight, He says, "for your Father knows what you need before you ask him."
It seems so silly, now, all of my asking. No, all of my telling.
I need this, Lord. You need to give me this, Lord. I'm sick of this, and instead I need to have this.
It seems so silly, so immature.
He knows it.
I need only to watch the Spring unfold to know how richly He desires to take care of me.
Go ahead, sing it, Patty.
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