What good is a worry box if it’s always full?
It’s not just full. It’s overflowing. It invades my other boxes. It keeps me up at night. It invades the box meant for thinking of others.
Because it’s full of thinking of others who aren’t thinking of others (With me here?).
I worry about dear ones who aren’t doing so well. I see how they are limping. I worry for their future, for their eternity.
And the miserable part is no matter how much I talk and remind quietly in love or in -not so quiet- pleads, I can’t change anything. I have my worry box stuffed full with things I can’t change. For people who don’t want me to help them.
And the thing I forget, the one thing I don’t remember.
Is thinking of the ones who are right beside me, guiding me.
Thinking of the ones who actually appreciate being thought of. Ones who help me. The ones who make striving that much easier day to day. Ones who are trying to walk this path in obedience, trying to set a good example.
I forget to thank them. To thank God.
Because my worry box has overflowed.
I ought to have a box labeled Faith instead of Worry; because it’s in that box, where those thoughts belong.
I need to pray. And have faith.
what good is a worry box if it’s always full?