No. I think, I know it’s a bad thing to worry too much – it stunts you. It ruins your mood, it ties you in knots, it destroys your creativity. And I don’t want to waste my time and energy with it. 

 

So why do I cling to that title? In search of sympathy? As an excuse? Do I coach it in terms of preparedness? But God doesn’t want us to worry. It’s not a medal or a badge of honor, showing how empathetic we are to others, what a good person we are for caring. Is that why I refuse to think of it as bad? Is that why I don’t want to give up my claim to such a fault?

 

Because really when I think about it, I’m not a worrier. Not any more than the average person, I suspect, anyway. And there’s freedom in that, in admitting it to myself, that I never expected. Like a weight I no longer have to carry. Like a burden lifted from my chest.

 

I’m NOT a worrier.

 

Because I know I’m blessed beyond belief, and I now truly understand there is no honor in worrying about what may never come. All I can do is accept whatever it may be, and expect it to be worry-free. After all, there is a difference between being prepared, and wasting our time and energy on things that will never happen. I refuse to kid myself any longer, or hang a false trophy around my neck. Toss that fool’s gold away and focus on the real gifts of the soul I’ve been given. There are better ways to spend my life.