Vanessa Andrews
Show me your ways, O Lord,
and teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation
in you have I trusted all the day long.
(Psalm 25:3-4)
These verses in today’s Psalm are ones that bear repeating to myself. Not because I need to be convinced, but because I need to be reminded to practice what is the very essence of my faith.
Several weeks ago, as I was scrolling through a long list of suggested Lenten disciplines, the one that caught my eye was to give up worry. Now, I don’t consider myself a worrier by nature, so why did it resonate with me? As I contemplated this over the course of a few days, it dawned on me that it is not worry that is the culprit. Rather, my worry is borne out of a sense that I should be, can be or need to be in control of the outcome of things both big and small. If I just work harder, if I just do this or I just finish that…fill in the blank.
Growing up in a household of high “achievers,” this paradigm was nurtured in me from a young age. And, while I wholly believe in and strive to put God at the center of my life, muscle memory is hard to change. I often find that turning to and trusting in God at times when I feel most vulnerable is most difficult. And yet, these are the times when I need God’s love the most.
Thus, I have begun an intentional practice – one that consists of baby steps that I know will continue well beyond Lent – of mindfully turning to God at those times when I feel the familiar internal signals nudging me to take control. When I am able to open myself and trust Him, the reward is a sense of lightness and calm that is much more effective at combating my worry.
God is listening, we need only trust in Him.