Dear God, what do I fear? So many inconsequential worries swirl through my thoughts. They are like the dust that accumulates, the weeds that keep growing. I sweep them away, yet their cousins return.
And how trivial are my most persistent fears: That I may have a difficult conversation. That another will not like me. That I will be judged.
I arrange my life to avoid these events as if they were monumental, hurricanes of terror. Yet when I look in the slow light of dawn – they are laughable. If I imagine my worst fear, and imagine if it were to become true – still I would be your child. Still you would love me without condition. Still I would be well.
Lord, let me see my worries in their proper perspective. None is as large as I fear. They are brief showers on a spring day – to be enjoyed briefly and then paid no mind.
Lord, let me stroll through this spring day, laughing.