There are times, usually in the dead of night, when worry comes to visit. She is like a cat, small but skittish and will not be put at ease no matter what is done to calm her. She soon has everything in tatters – my trust, my hopes, my very guts seem torn to shreds. Only then does she leave. I ask myself after each visit – Why did I let her in?
It’s difficult to be immersed in all our relationships, stay ahead of our growing responsibilities, and be in touch with the needs of our brothers and sisters in the world without being gripped, now and then, by sadness or even fear, let alone worry. Then, we look upon the faces of those we love, we breathe in the beauty that surrounds us, open ourselves to the many gifts that come our way and all that would strangle us - doesn’t strangle us anymore. It hasn’t all disappeared but the tension is gone. It doesn’t have a grip on us anymore so much as we, now, have a hold on it. Now, we’re holding our worries in the same hands we hold the lilies of the field. Now, we’re looking at our concerns with the same eyes that look upon the birds of the air.
Now, we know that tomorrow will take care of itself for today we have set our hearts on the Kingdom of God.
Prayer: God of all Goodness, today I will learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
Question: What do I let get a grip on me so that I’m not free as I’m meant to be?
March 2, 2014 – Gospel Matthew 6:24-34 Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time