He Doesn't Need My Help

I don't know about you, but I appreciate feeling needed. To know my husband, and my son, wants and needs me by their sides means a lot to me. I love feeling like a task could not be performed as well without my being a part of it. Maybe it's a pride thing, maybe it's just the satisfaction of feeling that you have something to contribute, either way, I'm trying to revamp my thinking.
Pastor spoke this morning on worry. That's like me, the pot, calling the kettle black. I found humorous (as did my dad) that Joe began the sermon with "Don't Worry, Be Happy" *do do do do do do do do do do doooooo, do do do do do do doooooo, do do do do do, Don't worry, be happy now*. You know the song. So do I. Why? Because it was my theme song when I was growing up.
I worried about EVERYTHING. To the point of my mother making me listen and learn the lyrics to this particular song probably 5 out of 7 days of the week. Really. I'm not kidding. Sad huh?
Anyway, I worried about not having teeth when I was old, about ever finding the job I wanted, about never getting married, never having kids, dying. I worried about where everyone was and why they were there, I worried about money. I worried about that a lot. I got used to ordering the cheapest thing on the menu and then feeling guilty for what that would cost my parents. I worried about everything... and, I've carried that into my adult life.
Until I met Aaron, I did the same thing at restaurants. He brought me out of that a little. What is $2.00 to get what you realllllly want? After all, we wouldn't be eating out if we couldn't afford it. But I still worry about my teeth falling out... I worry about being alone, with no family, in my old age, I worry about ever fulfilling my ultimate purpose, I worry about a career and what that will entail. I worry about never finding my niche. I worry about what I wear, the to do list three miles long, and the fact that my basically black furniture is dusty... AGAIN. I worry that I'm not doing enough... and then I worry that I'm doing too much. I worry that we'll never be able to retire, I worry that my kids will never understand how much I really love them, that something might be wrong with one of them, and most of all, that if I don't worry about these things nothing will get done, I'll never find that job, I'll never love my kids enough, and I'll be alone forever.
And what good comes from all of this worrying? Nothing. Nada.
Worrying doesn't produce the job I've always wanted... it doesn't make my kids healthy, in fact, it makes me sick! Worrying doesn't put money in a retirement fund, it doesn't give me a huge family when I'm 75, and it doesn't add any fulfillment whatsoever to my life. In fact, it steals from me the joy of my baby's smile. It steals from me the joy of my savior's grace.
So why do I continue to do it? It seems, I feel as if I don't worry, things won't get done. Without worry I'll never finish that to do list. I consciously know that completing that to do list will eliminate that worry, thus, I've began to use worry as a motivator. The same with a career. Looking for a job currently (during a time when they are virtually non-existent), my searching for a job comes because of the motivation that comes with worrying about it. I don't want to worry about it anymore, so I look a little harder and make it something to not be worried about.
It's about me. I have to solve my worry. It's my way of "helping" God out... taking care of it. You know that verse that says, "God helps those who help themselves," yah, it doesn't exist, but I may as well make a t-shirt that says it because that's how I live.
But what happens when I'm worrying about things that I can't fix -- the death of my family, my death, sickness, life circumstances... if I can't "fix" them, then I am unable to stop worrying about them. No motivator will fix those problems. So how am I supposed to handle them when I don't let God handle anything?
You see, He doesn't need my help to meet my needs. I don't need to feel like God needs me... I don't want to feel like God needs me. If God needed me, He wouldn't be God... I would be, and I can't handle all of that stress.
I feel like I've kind of rambled on about this, but it's really been self-discovery for me that I use worry as a motivator. Knowing this forces me to address worry as it stands in my life and allow God within me to guard my heart and my mind from worry.