One of the best parts of growing older, I’m finding, is no longer buying in when society begins wringing its hands and screaming that the sky is falling.
You know what I’m talking about. Presidential candidates. Weather patterns. International relations. The most recent epidemic.
There was a day when every dire warning found me choking back one fear after the next, or reading up on how to avoid the coming calamity, or looking at the sweet baby at my breast and being sure that his or her life would somehow be deeply, radically altered by the events that were afoot right then.
And then? Then I lived through stuff.
I lived through the knowing that Russia had a nuke pointed at my elementary school and the best I could do was cower under my desk and cover the back of my head with my math book.
I lived through Ryan White and the ensuing terror that swept every PTA in America.
I lived through a handful of hurricanes that were supposedly to obliterate the east coast.
I lived through Y2K without losing access to my bank account or my common sense.
I lived through H1N1 knowing that sure, my infected kids were o.k. today, but could end up clinging to life at any point.
I’m not saying I’ve seen it all. Not by a long shot. But in almost 42 years, I’ve seen a lot. Enough to know one thing, at least:
God’s got this. All of it. The big things (which often aren’t nearly as big as we make them out to be), and the small things (which sometimes matter so much more than we realize). He has it all–all of it— right here, right now, and forever.
He’s not freaking out. He’s not running for cover. He’s not thinking, “Oh, man. They’ve done it now. That’s the one thing I can’t fix! My whole plan for eternity is ruined!”
He’s not working on a contingency plan. He’s standing nearby, extending His arms. He’s waiting for us to literally cast all our anxieties upon Him, because He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7).
You guys, Jesus isn’t worried about who’s going to win the election. He’s not losing sleep over the recent flood of celebrity divorces. He’s not paralyzed at the notion of this coming winter bringing record snow. And he doesn’t want you to feel any of those things, either.
I may not yet be counted among the aged (42 isn’t that old, come on!), but I’ve lived long enough to have a grasp on one bit of wisdom that brings me comfort in these upside down days (Job 12:12):
The most dire predictions of men are nothing when measured against the glory of God. I chose to fear Him, and to heed His warnings. I love my country, my community, the church. But the world is not my home. I choose to spend less time pondering the further fall of man and more time building the Kingdom we will inherit.