Framework Rebuilt

When I was little, my family would joke that I had something to worry about for every day of the week. I protested their claims with all my heart, but inside, I knew they were right.

On Sundays, I worried about my piano lesson on Monday night.

Monday I would begin worrying about something at school the next day.

Tuesdays, I would worry about church on Wednesday night….

On and on. Every day. If I didn’t have a legitimate concern to worry about, I would create one. I was good at that, and was a champion of creating a mountain out of the proverbial mole hill.

What’s more, I had another framework within which my life operated. Early in my elementary years, I developed a system of predicting, as it were, what kind of day I would have. Simply put, my days would alternate: good day, bad day, good day, bad day, and so on. If today were remarkably (or even slightly) good, tomorrow would, of course, be a bad one. I believed that to the extent that I created a self-fulfilling prophecy. Within that framework, mildly aggravating things were interpreted as further proof that my day was bad, and good things were sometimes overlooked because it wasn’t supposed to be a good day. Good days, too, were not as appreciated and enjoyed as they should have been because I was dreading with certainty the bad day that would follow.

It was a sad way for a child to live, but it was a way for me to make sense of my world. It seemed to work for me, so I kept doing it.

As an adult, I no longer see the world in such black and white terms, but I do, I think, have a similar way of seeing my life. In good times, when things seem to be working out and I can feel without a doubt that I am where I am supposed to be, I can’t help but wonder what is coming.

“Things can’t be this good forever,” I think. “What is going to be the tragedy that ruins this bright spot? What is going to pull me down again?”

I sit and ponder the goodness of my life, looking for what might be my downfall. I contemplate the blessings of today while anticipating, in a very real way, that something bad is about to happen. I reason with myself that really, things have always been pretty good for me and that it only makes sense that something – something – bad would be coming to me. Jesus’ words echo in my mind:

“In this world you will have trouble.” (John 16:33)

What I fail to quote to myself, though, is the rest of the Lord’s message to me. Conveniently, I seem to forget that He went on to say,

“…but take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

The framework of my life requires that I omit passages like that. A framework of worry and doubt and fear does not allow messages of peace and of “taking heart.” No…..it is too convenient to forget those things and settle further into a lifestyle of worry. The framework is uncomfortable, but it is functioning. In discomfort, I merely survive. It is unsettling, but it is familiar.

I recognize this tension, though, and I see how this is not the way that Christ desires for me to live. I see that I am far from the life of peace to which I am called, and I see that something needs to change. If Jesus has overcome the world and everything in it, there is a clear disconnect between His teachings and my life. Fear does not indicate that anything has been overcome, but that something – someone – has been overtaken. What I must remember is that Jesus also told us this:

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:33)

I’m challenging myself to rebuild the framework upon which my view of life was built. Constant fear…..worry…..dread…. I recognize the patterns, and I know for a fact that there is more to life. It has been promised to me, and I am in hot pursuit of it. There is more to life, and though it may take years of steady restructuring of everything I know, I will pursue it. There is more, and I want all that He has to give me.