Don’t call me a raven, please,

Photo on 6-6-13 at 7.00 PM #2You’re looking at a girl with three jobs right now. I’m a PR agent and copywriting intern at eatiply, a copyeditor for a couple online magazines, AND (here’s the new one) an Ann Taylor Loft sales associate!  I would say that I think that the pearls, classy cardigan, and fancy watch that got me the job, but I know it was Jesus.  As my mom puts it, I just opened my hands, and He put two perfect, new opportunities for the summer in them.

It’s times like these when I am reminded (or it might be more accurate to say re-re-re-re-re-re-reminded) that I don’t need to worry.  I really don’t. Jesus doesn’t promise sunshine (illustrated by our very cloudy week) and constant employment and that you’ll always feel good. But he promises a purposeful existence with hope and our needs provided for.

I read the chapter about anxiety in my surprise book this morning. Can you say, “applicable”? Here’s what was going on in my head as I read this passage of scripture that Stanley stuck in there:

Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life… oh, really, Jesus.  Oh really.  Don’t worry about my life?  If I’m not going to worry about life, then what will I have to worry about? what you will eat, nor about the body, what you will put on well, I mean, you don’t want me leaving the house in just anything.  I think a little healthy anxiety about my wardrobe is good, Jesus.  I respectfully request that I be allowed to worry about what I will wear. Life is more than food, um….. and the body is more than clothing. I’ll give you that one.

Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap, which have neither storehouse nor barn; and God feeds them. Well, I’m fortunate enough to not be worried about food that much.  Though I get hungry frequently, I know I’ve got it good. But let’s not compare me to a raven, please.  They’re annoying. Of how much more value are you than the birds? Aw, shucks. That’s comforting. And which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? Well, I’m already 5′ 11.2”.  I wasn’t trying to add any cubits.  Really. 

Anxiety grabs, like a predator.  Imagine being caught in the jaws of a cheetah.  Clammy palms, burning sensation in your stomach, frantic thoughts, tense muscles….  Sounds a lot like I get when I’m trying new things.  But, unlike if I was in a predator’s jaws, I can shake anxiety off by claiming God’s peace over my life.  If He says to not worry, then He must provide a way to defeat anxiety, right?




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