Worry Has Me Worried

I worry too much, and that, quite frankly, has me worried.

Yes, it's funny to say something like that, but in all seriousness, worry sometimes consumes me. I would defend myself by suggesting I have good reason to worry -- actually, I have five good reasons: my wife, and four daughters. And if I want to increase me worry quotient (WQ) I'd add our three cats. And this is just under our own roof -- not including our parents, siblings (and their families), etc., etc.

There are times when I play in the theater of my mind the strangest stories that directly affect my mood and general state of mind -- and they're all about bad things happening to my family.

The thing is, I can't control other people (I actually have a hard time controlling myself). The reason I mention this is to say that years ago I was going through a pretty rough clip; a friend of mine took my fishing to trap me into talking! Actually, it was therapeutic because this is the kind of thing he does professionally (not the fishing).

While out on the water we talked about a lot of things -- really, I talked about a lot of things and he asked questions to prompt me along the way. At one point he kindly, but frankly, said: "Jamey, there's so little we control. If you think about it, we're four feet from death at every car that comes by us on a two-lane road." Yep, that didn't help me either!

The long and short of it all is this: Looking back over the last 10 years I would not have chosen the specific path we've taken along life's road -- what I thought were "detours" were not: a detour is temporary, and some of the routes taken have had a much more permanent view. But you know what? Looking back over the last 10 years I would not change much of anything because of how all those things worked together (Romans 8:28-30).

It's not really accurate to say there are no guarantees in life; there are -- we are guaranteed days of happiness and and days of sadness. Both, of course, come to an end: and that's what makes up our lives. And then, one day, we will die. As Bertrand Russell put it so smartly, "There's an amazing statistic among men, that one out of every one dies."

Yes, death bothers me; and yes, I worry about it because of unknowns. But I like the story of the doctor on a visit who brought along his dog. Checking on the patient, he left the dog outside. The patient was suffering from cancer and expressed concern about what's "on the other side." Eventually, the dog interrupted the discussion because he was incessantly scratching at the door trying to get to his master, the doctor. And this is the point the doctor made: he didn't know exactly what was "on the other side," but he did know his Master was there waiting!