WORRY BAGS

How big can a purse get before it’s considered a suitcase? I think about that when I see displays of huge purses at stores (or thrift stores, as in this photo), then recall how I try to minimize what’s in my purse. I’m not sure when the standard modest purse disappeared. When I was in high school in the 1960s, when the “ratted/poufed/sprayed” hairdos were all the rage, a teen girl’s purse wasn’t complete without a big can of hairspray to keep her locks in lacquer. (Disclaimer: I didn’t do that.) And of course, that took up space.

I’ve tried to keep my purse-life under control. I can’t survive with just a wallet, keys, and my tiny no-frills $7-a-month cell phone. Add a small calendar planner and a little zipped pocket thing for lipstick and the like. When I weighed mine recently, it was a decent four pounds, complete. But I’ve been attacked by mega-purses, not because somebody thought I was going to rob them, but in other innocent situations—like sitting in church next to an empty seat.  Even though I usually stand up to provide more room for the passer, I’ve gotten head-bashed by somebody’s mega-purse that borders on the size of a suitcase.

I smile to think of it—and I remember a wonderful illustration about heavy suitcases given by Corrie ten Boom during her speaking tours. After World War 2 she was a guest at a little church in Japan, which was still reeling from the war. She decided to conquer the language barrier with an object lesson about how to pray. She dragged her heavy travel suitcase up to the speaking platform. Quoting 1 Peter 5:7 (“Cast all your cares upon Him”), she emptied her suitcase, putting the items on a table. Some, she said, represented her weary co-workers. Another was her next trip to a town where she knew nobody. Then came friends at home, recovering from an auto accident; a little boy who refused to trust Christ; then her personal problems, like unconfessed sin, pride, and worry.  All these she wanted to “cast on the Lord.”  Then, she said, “amen,” closed the empty suitcase, and began to walk away, swinging the now-light suitcase.

The people got her point—about casting all such cares on the Lord.

Many years later, in Berlin, she ran into a Japanese evangelist who remembered her “trouble suitcase” speech in his homeland. She was flattered that he would mention it. But he said he had one problem with her illustration.  Speech over, she’d reloaded her suitcase with her personal items and left the church, just as burdened as before. * That wasn’t the message she intended! But it was a reminder how she (and the rest of us who know that promise in 1 Peter 5:7) kept putting worries and cares back in the “trouble suitcase” instead of freely releasing them to God.

I have the same problem as I pray. My real purse may get its periodic “purging” and tidying up (I sure don’t want to be guilty of carrying a head-bonker purse!). But from time to time the Lord needs to remind me (as He did when I came across Corrie ten Boom’s story) that when I cast my cares on Him, I’m not to keep stuffing them back in my worry suitcase/purse.

Worry bags aren’t part of God’s plan for the growing, trusting believer.

*This anecdote was told in Jesus Is Victor, © 1985, compiled in Corrie ten Boom: Her Story (New York: Inspiration Press, 1995), pp. 472-73.

 

AND A POST SCRIPT:

When a student at Wheaton Graduate School in my early thirties, I met a remarkable young woman whose background by that time already included living with author Elisabeth Elliot (as a seminary student helper), and ministry with a well-known international evangelism group. She'd eventually marry a widower with three children (and add a fourth) and juggle family, writing, and a busy inspirational speaking career. Her name is Lucinda Secrest McDowell, and I recently received a copy of her latest (and 15th) book, Life-Giving Choices (New Hope Publishers, $15.99). This book reflects her practice of choosing a value-oriented word as a spiritual stake for the year, and highlights 60 qualities or decisions. It's intended to be a 60-day devotional guide, but I couldn't put it down and read it in a few days. (I will go back and read with more thoughtful diligence!) I was reminded of Mark Twain's remark that the difference between the right word and the not-quite-right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. This book is full of "right words" to ignite spiritual examination and spiritual intention. On my computer I have posted the word "inspire" as a reminder of a daily choice I need to make. This book certainly illustrates that quality. I commend it as a thoughtful, Biblical, personal, and applicable addition to your spiritual disciplines.

Grandpappy Carrot

Go ahead and laugh. Of all the carrots I have seen in my life, this one easily takes the title of “Grandpappy Carrot.” It came from a friend who for years has shared  produce from his large garden with us. That includes many carrots with humorous knobs and strings.  But none quite matched this one for size and weirdness.  We sometimes joked that he must lace his soil with radioactive substances to get such alien specimens. Of course, that’s not the case.  He’s very much into “natural foods,” and this is sometimes what happens.

As I stood at the sink scrubbing the dirt off “Grandpappy,” I admit that my mind was elsewhere, praying for people who drag around buckets of anxieties and worries. The Bible's take on this:
Cast all your cares upon him, because he cares for you. (I Peter 5:7)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:6-7)

Who of you by worrying can add a single day to your life? (Luke 23:25)

Worrying implies that God isn’t big enough to take us through our cares and trials. Often, chronic worriers think that by piling up prayers, and enlisting others to pray-pray-pray, they’ll win God to their way of thinking of how He should run the world. 

I like how Roy Hession, an evangelist of the last century, expressed it in his now-classic book on revival, The Calvary Road.  Using a journey analogy to express the goal of peace with God and concern for others, he names the sins (like the weird growths on my Grandpappy Carrot) that impair us along the way: “self-pity, self-seeking, self-indulgence in thought or deed, sensitiveness, touchiness, self-defense, self-consciousness, shyness, reserve, worry, fear, and so on.”(1)

Such behaviors should be alien to the life of a believer. When we decide to follow God, He takes us (like that misshapen carrot), ugly character bumps and all. But He doesn’t leave us like that. The very trials and tribulations that we resist are part of His paring knife to shape us into the character of Christ. He is lovingly, intimately concerned about all our concerns and worries.

As for my Grandpappy Carrot, anybody hungry for carrot salad? 

(1) Roy Hession, The Calvary Road (Fort Washington, PA: Christian Literature Crusade, 1950), p. 54.

The Worrier's Hymnal

You probably know, as I do, some chronic worriers. If they
 wrote a hymnbook, it might include songs like these:

THE GLOOM GOSPEL (sung to tune of “Rock of Ages”)

I’m a worrier, I think the worst,
I’m so anxious I could burst.
I dwell on the negatives,
All the awful life can give.
Yes, I know that it’s a sin,
But my worries always win.

EXPECTING THE WORST  (sung to tune of “God Will Take Care of You”)

Worry, worry, life is not fair,
I might be breathing polluted air.
Every new ache and pain gives me alarm.
Inflation might force me to move to a barn.

Chorus:

An-xi-ety is my way.
Anything bad might happen today.
Accidents, illness or robbed by a bum—
Worrying expects it to come.

Maybe you caught the irony, that the tunes to both bogus “hymns” are stalwart hymns of trust in God. “Rock of Ages,” begins the first, “cleft for me,/Let me hide myself in thee.” As for the second, there’s an interesting story about its composition in 1904 by a pastor’s wife, Civilla Martin. She was among the prolific hymn lyricists of her time, reportedly writing several hundred songs. Next to “His Eye is on the Sparrow,” this is her best known.

Civilla had some health issues, and one Sunday wasn’t well enough to accompany her pastor-husband to a preaching request several hours’ journey from their home.  He seriously considered cancelling it so he could stay home with her.  His young son persuaded him to go, saying, “Father, don’t you think that if God wants you to preach today, He will take care of Mother while you are away?” While he was away preaching, Civilla wrote the four stanzas that begin:

Be not dismayed whatever betide,/God will take care of you;
Beneath His wings of love abide,/God will take care of you.
Chorus: God will take care of you,/Through every day, o’er all the way;
He will take care of you,/God will take care of you.

 What specific Bible text inspired her isn’t known, though she may have been thinking of some verses in Philippians 4:

“Do not be anxious about anything” (4:6)
“My God will meet all your needs” (4:19)
Or, from 1 Peter 5:7: “Cast all your anxiety upon him because he cares for you.”

Civilla knew the best cure for worry: a steady dose of trust in the God who “will take care of you.”  By the way, her husband, also a musician, wrote the tune to it.

When life's gloomy

Talk about a gloomy day!  Though sunny outside, a storm system had moved inside. Negative thoughts splattered as I went about my chores. This photo is the best way I can illustrate it! I was dealing with some gray emotional clouds that rose up after a morning prayer time. For years I’d prayed for certain people who had a hard time “doing life.” Over and over I’d prayed that these people would drop negative habits, find joy in the Lord, sense purpose for life, acquire quality friends, or discover God’s will. But it seemed nothing was changing for the good. I was frustrated, even worried, about their futures. As my concern grew over the next hours, it was like a shroud over my day. Surely God was noticing how much I cared for these people!  

His answer came in an Email. A writer-friend, Kathy Collard Miller, had a book coming out. Would I be willing to review it? Her request turned out to be “apples of gold in settings of silver.”  No, not that old, famed book of quotes and aphorisms, but golden counsel I needed that week. Kathy is a seasoned author (nearly 50 books) and speaker (U.S. and overseas).

Timely for my “clouded perspective,” this new book is on “worry.” Titled Partly Cloudy with Scattered Worries, it teaches how it’s possible to worry less by trusting God more. Her insights helped me close up my gloom umbrella and realign some spiritual perspectives. Chapter 8, for example, tackles how worrying is really an attempt to control others. She highlights three false attitudes behind that premise.

False idea #1: “Worry communicates love,” as in “I was SO worried about you.” Truth: Worry communicates distrust. Worrying is a control device that can drive a wedge between people. “Prayer is powerful, worry is powerless,” she writes. “Prayer builds the relationship, worry destroys the relationship.”

False idea #2: “Worry changes other people.”  Truth: Worry doesn’t change others. Worry causes us to fall into a rut of thinking we’re responsible for another’s happiness. Kathy recalled worrying about her daughter’s unhappy “host family” situation during a college semester overseas. But her daughter emerged from that troubled semester with a healthy appreciation for her real family. Instead of worrying, we need to let God use a difficult situation in someone’s life. 

 

False idea #3. “Worry controls other people.” Truth:  It’s not our role to “rescue” people. She shared the story of an elderly woman who, worried about a troubled grandson, paid his rent and food for three years so he wouldn’t be homeless. By “worrying” through her financial support, she was actually interfering with God’s discipline in the young man’s life. Citing Proverbs 19:19, Kathy remarked, “Neither worrying nor rescuing does any good. It only brings destruction….He (or she) needs to be needy so that he/she will need God.” 

In other situations where people struggle (like those on my gloomy-day prayer list), Kathy reminds us that their failures are not a reflection on us. Instead, we’re to pray and set appropriate boundaries. There’s lots more, of course, to the book. Should I stop praying for spiritually needy people? Absolutely not! The Bible commands intercession. Prayer does change things, but not in the way nor in the time we think. God didn’t create robots. He created people with free will (make that: strong wills). But He still loves us more than we can imagine. He even loved me enough to allow me to experience a gloomy day. Then He gently pulled me out of it through a writer-friend’s timely counsel.