16 Apr Careless in the Care of God

The moon cast a soft glow off my son’s small face, which wore a concerned look as I tucked him into bed. “Mom, if we take Fuzzy to Chicago with us, what will happen if he doesn’t know where he is and tries to go home.” I tried to reassure him that Fuzzy, our bunny, would be just fine: “Especially when he looks around and sees our faces, I’m sure he’ll feel fine about it.”

Joseph wasn’t so sure. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head with a look of knowing and sighed, saying, “Well, then what if when he’s in Gigi’s yard, a hawk tries to get him.” I knew then that he had a whole list of “Things that Could Happen to Fuzzy When We Go to Chicago” written out in his brain and the best thing to do was to pray with him.

“Let’s give your concerns to God, son,” I said.  He cautiously responded with, “Well….I don’t know.” Just thirty minutes earlier this little boy was riding along our neighborhood sidewalks while singing over and over “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, I love you.” And yet when it came to trusting God with our bunny, he hesitated. And yet, he agreed with me as I prayed for Fuzzy’s safety and also committed the matter to God. “Lord, we give these worries about Fuzzy to you.” He seemed to brighten up a bit as he proclaimed to his sister excitedly as she entered the room, “Mom and I just prayed for Fuzzy!“

Look at the Birds

As a disciple of Christ, I am much like my son. I worship and adore my Lord, study his Word and speak passionately about His Way. And yet, I worry and become anxious about things that are outside of my control. This morning, I sat in our sunporch just so that I could watch the birds flying from tree to tree. As I watched them, the Holy Spirit quickened to my heart God’s Word, “Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds” (Matthew 6:26, MSG).

Lately I have had the honor of walking with some dear ones in their own “Valley of the Shadow of Death” moments. Burdens that some of my neighbors and friends are bearing in this season are heavier and darker and more awful than anything I have ever had to bear. I have walked away from certain conversations feeling the weights of what others are carrying. In addition, I feel my own burdens and cares press in on me day by day.

And it is here, in my weighed-down moments, that God meets me, offering to lift my load, “Pile your troubles on God’s shoulders—He’ll carry your load, he’ll help you out.” (Psalm 55:22, MSG.) I often hesitate. I think perhaps life is supposed to be heavy. He reminds me, “Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” (Matthew 6:27, NLT).

“Well…” I pause like my son. He’s persistent on this one. “I can handle it, child, but you can’t. Pile it all on me.” I hear him, finally. One by one, I release the weights. I look again at the birds, lightly fluttering from tree to tree, singing melodies I don’t understand because I don’t have Narnian ears yet. I imagine myself soaring in flight joyfully with them.

My husband often jokingly tells me, “Lighten up, Laura. Don’t take life so seriously.” And I see that the goal, the aim, is to stay light. To pile and keep piling. To cast and keep casting. The Lord can handle all the weight and the worries. I can’t. He’s the Savior. I’m not.

I walk past my son’s room and hear his quiet breathing. I pray that tonight we both will rest – carefree in the care of God.