What to Ask if You’re Anxious about the Future

Last week, I wrote about metaphorical wake-up calls—how they don’t have an expiration date, and how responding to mine involves learning to be OK with not knowing how the story is going to end.

I don’t have a tried-and-true strategy for doing this, of course. But right around the time I decided to get serious about confronting this life-long struggle, I also started tackling some projects that I’ve always wanted to do but never had the gumption to try.

Surprisingly, the process of doing that is helping me answer my wake-up call. 

For example, I decided this was the year that we were finally going to dig up, divide and replant a large-but-rapidly declining patch of ornamental grass that anchors the front corner of our house.

This garden task should be done every few years or so, but we’ve lived in our house for almost a decade and have never done it. Although I’ve talked about it plenty, it always felt too intimidating. Plus, what if we did it wrong or we didn’t like how it looked or it took too long to grow back?

This year, though, more of the patch was dead than was alive and growing.

It was time. I knew it. And the question that spurred me into action was this: What’s the worst thing that could happen?

If part of it doesn’t grow back, I told myself, we can replace it with another clump of ornamental grass from somewhere else in our yard. If the whole thing looks bad, we can dig it all up and plant a nice burning bush in its place.

Easy peasy.

Well, not exactly, but thanks to Randy’s ability to handle a shovel, we got the job done.

I asked myself the same question when—after years of being too nervous to try—I decided to cut my own bangs. What’s the worst thing that could happen?

Sure, I might cut my hair crooked or take off too much, but it will grow back. It always does. And honestly, if anyone is critiquing my hair, the blinding white patches in the front that haven’t been colored for four months will be much more distracting than the sloppiest bang trim I could ever do.

So I literally held my breath and started cutting. And you know what? Despite my dull hair-cutting scissors, my bangs turned out just fine.

So what does this have to do with me learning how to be OK with not knowing the end of the story?

Simply this. Asking, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” when doing rather inconsequential things that previously intimidated me has prompted me to pose a similar question when what-ifs about the future start crowding my mind.

What’s the worst thing that could happen TODAY?

• When I wonder how Covid-19 is going to affect the start of the next school year.

• When I worry about my high school grad going off to college in a different state.

• When I get anxious about the tense state of affairs in our country.

• When I think about the upcoming presidential election.

You get the idea.

What’s the worst thing that could happen today?

Sadly, the worst can and sometimes does happen. My heart aches for those whose lives have been unexpectedly changed in a single horrible moment. 

But constantly fearing the worst is no way to live.

Studies have suggested that at around 85 percent of the things people worry about never come true at all. So chances are, when my mind goes from zero to 100 at the slightest provocation, the worst-case scenario that I’m afraid might be coming down the road won’t happen today.

Yes, we have to plan for the future. But planning is different from extrapolating and predicting and wringing our hands over all the uncertainty we face.

Learning to be OK with not knowing how the story ends is, in effect, learning to take one day at a time and trust God with the future.

This is exactly what Jesus tells us to do in Matthew 6, isn’t it?

Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothing?

Look at the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they?

Can any of you add a single cubit to his height by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Learn how the wildflowers of the field grow: they don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these!

If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t He do much more for you—you of little faith?

So don’t worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For the idolaters eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you.

Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:25-34)

I’ve heard this passage my whole life, but only recently has the truth of it—and how it specifically applies to my desire to know how the story ends—actually sunk in.

Don’t worry about tomorrow, Lois, because tomorrow will worry about itself.

Or, paraphrased ever so slightly: Don’t worry about how the story ends; the chapter you’re in has enough trouble of its own.

I don’t know how I missed it before. Maybe it was easier to worry and fret than it was to commit my ways and cares to Jesus, one at a time, intentionally and regularly. Maybe it took less effort to hold fast to my treasured security and stability and and not rely on God to provide for me and my loved ones, one day at a time.

It’s easy to quote Bible verses and post encouraging quotes on Instagram. But the practice of actually not worrying about tomorrow—of being anxious for nothing and keeping our minds “stayed” on our heavenly Father—requires discipline, doesn’t it?

I have so far to go with this; perhaps you do too. But if it’s going to happen at all, it will happen one thought at a time, one fear at a time, one prayer at a time, and yes, one day at a time.

“I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears.” (Psalm 34:4)

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, #HeartEncouragement, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.