by Rob Jackson

Our lives are not always as they appear on the surface. The light of smiles and laughter may warm our faces, while the darkness of pain chills the inner depths of our hearts. Seeping down into the deep interior caverns of our souls is worry. Its metronomic dripping forms piercing stalactites of anxiety, drip by drip, layer upon layer.

If you were to search through a concordance, it might surprise you to find that worry is not listed. The Bible actually says much about worry, but the word itself goes by several different aliases, such as care, anxiety, burden, trouble, and fear. A background check reveals that its origins are ties to the meaning “to be divided or distracted.” So the mission of worry, this invisible insurgent, is always to trouble or distress us. It incites a mental and emotional riot that works against our ability to focus on what we're doing.

Let's look at some of the real dangers of worry that can affect our lives.

First: Worry keeps you from enjoying what you have.

“For this reason I say to you, do not be anxious for your life, as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; nor for your body, as to what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Matthew 6:25)

We live in a society whose basic philosophic foodstuffs gorge our worries and only tease our hungry souls. The mind-set tries to convince us that life is only about food and designer clothing labels. And those who are willing to swallow this philosophy develop robust anxieties—anxieties that rob them of the ability to enjoy what they have by keeping their eyes on the things they don't have.

Second: Worry makes you forget your worth.

“Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

There are well over eight thousand species of birds, and God feeds them all. Yet for all their beauty and diversity, Jesus did not die for a single bird. He died for us. It's hard to believe we could ever doubt our value in God's sight, yet when worry pours its acid through our minds, it blanches our memory of the Savior's love.

Third: Worry is completely useless.

“And which of you by being anxious can add a single cubit to his life's span?” (Matthew 6:27)

We can lie awake and fret all we want, but when morning comes, we'll still have problems. So why do we do it? Certainly not because it is useful in dealing with these problems. There is always a new line of new worries waiting to get in the door—as we shove one out the back door, we usher a new one in the front. When one worry is gone, we immediately replace it with another.

Fourth: Worry erases the promises of God from your mind.

“But if God so arrays the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more do so for you, O men of little faith? Do not be anxious then, saying, ‘What shall we eat?' or ‘What shall we drink?' or ‘With what shall we clothe ourselves?'” (Matthew 6:30-31)

When times are lean, it's easy to forget how much God cares about us. Our natural tendency is to check in at worry's twenty-four-hour-a-day clinic instead of asking the Great Physician to make a house call on our lives. Memories of God's promises seep from our consciousness as worry administers massive doses of self-absorption, until we are like spiritual amnesiacs who remember only the most basic questions in life: “What will I eat? What will I drink? What will I wear?” We forget that God provides for us, and that He has promised to take care of all our needs (Romans 8:31-32).

Fifth: Worry is characteristic of unbelievers, not Christians.

“For all these things the Gentiles eagerly seek; for your heavenly Father know that you need all these things” (Matthew 6:32).

Each day non-Christians face a gauntlet of worries. And the sad part of it is that they must do it alone. As long as they have no heavenly Father to serve, their lives will be spent in servitude to the tyrannical urgings of worry. The Christian, however, can reach out beyond worry's iron hand and find Another's, whose scars reassure is that He is there and He cares for us (Hebrews 13:5-6).

But worry isn't something we're stuck with. Jesus ends the passage in Matthew 6 with two practical suggestions, and from other passages of Scripture, we can find four more principles to help us break worry's gravitational pull.

Keep your mind on the Lord (Matthew 6:33).

Worry is like any other sin. It must first come to us as a temptation, begging for a place to stay. That is the critical moment for us all. Will you keep your mind in fellowship with the Lord? Or will you let worry onto the front porch, give it a drink of water, and chat a bit before you send it on its way? You can bet that before you pour its second glass of water, worry will have you asking it to stay for dinner. When worry comes panhandling at your screen door, send Christ to answer its call instead.