My dad died seven years ago, and ever since then I’ve been trying to be Superman.
After Dad passed away, the prospect of becoming the “man of the house” was a bit daunting, I’ll admit. I had an aging mother, I was just starting my own business, and I wasn’t yet out of the partying stage of my life.
Now I own one business and I’m partial owner of another. I still have an aging mother and I’m a newlywed with a child on the way.
Life has piled up quickly.
Over the last seven years, as responsibility in my life has increased, I have seen the rise of anxiety and worry in my life. Honestly, before just recently, I never battled any kind of anxiety. Worry, yes. Anxiety, no.
My life has become cluttered with varying forms of work, and often I feel like I need 8 arms to survive the day. “I feel like an octopus,” I admitted to my wife.
Have you ever felt this way?
Quite naturally as a man, I feel the need to have to fix things. And when Dad left us, my protective nature really kicked in. So as I took on more and more responsibility, there was a growing need for me to “MAN-age” each particular issue.
I found myself growing more impatient with people in my life who didn’t snap to the beat of my instructions. As time went on, I became grouchier and grouchier. I was like an old crotchety codger who walks through life with a perpetual scowl on his face. It wasn’t much fun to be around me.
Like falling in quicksand, I continued to sink deeper into anger and negativity. I was increasingly more disagreeable. The fear of losing everything moved in and became a roommate of ours.
I believe God began dealing with me on this particular issue. A couple of weeks ago, in a moment of clarity, He revealed to me how tightly I was clutching everything in my life. I was so afraid of losing everything that I had everything by the throat. My business. My finances. My relationship with my wife. My protectiveness of my mother.
As I continued to dig deeper, God revealed to me something even more striking. My worry and anxiety had trickled down, even to the belief in my own salvation.
I was clutching, clutching, clutching.
If somehow I could just work hard enough, press in, obey, keep my nose to the grindstone, maybe I wouldn’t lose everything. And maybe one day, I’d make heaven.
It was time for me to release my control over my life, and my afterlife. God doesn’t need me to be the manager. He just wants me to trust Him.
I realized that salvation is not a thing for me to achieve, like winning a medal. It’s a gift that is received through faith in Jesus Christ.
And so every morning, I’ve been waking up with a new perspective. As I pray, I give everything over to Him. My career. My business. My finances. My wife. My child. My faith. My life.
After all, everything is His anyway.
There’s a reason Jesus warns us about worrying. Worry is a cancer that will not only rob you of your joy, it is a disease that will begin to erode those around you. Worry is infectious, and it spreads quickly to your circle of influence.
Perhaps it’s time to take inventory of your life: are you spreading the disease of worry?
By attempting to wrest control away from God, I am telling Him that I know better than Him how life should be handled, and how often I find myself drowning in my cesspool of arrogance. When I do this, not only is my view of God flawed, but often I’m outside the center of His will.
When Jesus commands us not to worry, He really means it.
So maybe it’s time to let go. Cast that burden that’s been weighing your life down onto Him. Release the need to have to fix everything. Release the worry of losing everything. Release the worry that something catastrophic is going to happen.
And be certain of your own salvation.
Don’t worry, my friend. Everything will be OK. Your whole life is going to be OK.
He’s got this. 78