Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.Philippians 4:6

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6

Of all the faith challenges in scripture, the challenge not to worry is the toughest for me. I have no trouble with the divinity of Jesus, the virgin birth, the resurrection, or Jesus’ sacrifice for my sin. I can balance the God of Justice of the Old Testament with what seems the more loving God of the New. That’s not a problem.  I worry about worry.

Worry is a problem for most of us. It magnifies yesterday, muddies up tomorrow and minimizes today. It eats up time, energy and focus. It hampers hope, freezes faith and labors love. Jesus warned against it often both directly and through its foundation in fear. He preached worry’s antidote and cure: faith. Not faith in its what-I-believe sense, but in its whom-do-I-trust sense.

Worry is the greatest test of our faith because it’s not “spiritual” or “cerebral” but practical. It’s not something we think about during sermons or on retreats, but something that’s in our face every day. Our spiritualized “trust” in Jesus meets concrete challenges in screaming kids, sadistic bosses, out of control politicians, unexpected bills. It creeps up on us through unexplained pains that must be cancer, layoffs that surely mean we are next, by moody kids who are surely covering up their drug abuse, criminal activity or unwanted pregnancies.

Worry grows as we age and our bodies start to fail, minds constantly wander and friends die off. We are hammered with the realization that we will never do all we hoped, live like we dreamed, or love like we should. Our days become more clearly numbered. There is too much time, but not enough time. Our spouses don’t seem to be as head-over-heals in love as they once were. Our kids are learning how dumb and truly powerless we are. The award shows are full of artists we never heard of and movies we’ve never seen. Our grand kids have to tell us how to use our phones and computers.

The answer, of course, is to increase our focus on God. If we will look carefully at his creation, we will understand his power and love. If we consider our walk with Him thus far we will remember his faithful presence and many miraculous interventions. If we immerse ourselves in his word, we will be encouraged and empowered by His promises. It takes work to trust what can not be seen over what seems constantly in our face. To not worry is to be happy, but it takes more than a song with a calypso beat. It takes practicing the presence and reality of God whom we can’t see unless we look with eyes of faith.