One day on my morning walk, I was contemplating what a mess we human beings have made of this world.
The feeling, as I thought of the latest news (don’t remember what exactly triggered this) was anxiety.
Into these thoughts, into this worry, came an inner “voice,” an impression of words on my spirit: “I am still working, and I am not worried.”
The tone was quite cheerful. Confident. “I am still working, and I am not worried.”
Two scriptures came to mind, both from Mark 4.
The parable of the farmer (Mark 4:26-29). So short, I’ll quote it:
26 And he said, “The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground. 27 He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. 28 The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come.”
” The seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself” … “I am still working.” Whether I see it or not, whether I understand how he’s working or not, God is still working. In the world, in me, in my children.
God also told me he’s not worried. Picture Jesus, asleep on a cushion in a storm-tossed boat. “Jesus, don’t you care that we’re about to die?” (Sort of like I was subconsciously thinking on my walk: “Jesus, do you see what a mess we’re making of this world? Don’t you care that we’re destroying your planet and each other?”)
Jesus gets up and calms the storm (Mark 4:35-41). He wasn’t worried … because he knew who he was and what he can do.
Do we know those things? Truly, deep in our hearts?
Those cheerful, confident words to me that morning come back to me often, when I’m tempted to think God doesn’t care about whatever it is I’m worried about.
“I’m still working, and I’m not worried.”
As Steve Brown says, “You think about that.”