Receive His Care

I read the words, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Matt. 6:25 ESV) and the guilt begins to weave its tendrils around my heart. It sounds like an admonition, a rapping of my knuckles. I picture my mother, her hands on her hips, shaking her head and wondering if I will ever get it. I read these words and feel reprimanded by Jesus.

We have probably all heard numerous sermons centered around the command “Do not worry,” and yet how can I not, when my child is in the hospital with a collapsed lung, or when my appendix bursts in a remote mountain village in an underdeveloped country, or when my daughter is traveling alone in a foreign land, and on an ordinary day when I’m all out of sorts? How can I fight the anxiety which threatens to overwhelm when a pandemic has its tentacles throughout our world and is inching toward my home? On the surface it feels like I am being told to bury my head in the sand and avoid reality; to sweep it under the rug and meet the day with a pasted-on smile. A kind of “Don’t worry, be happy” theology.

When I come back and reread this passage, I am wondering if I have gotten it wrong all along. Rather than a performance review, could it be an invitation to stop and see the God who is right here with me? Is it instead an offer of a new way of living? An invite to a life of surrender and freedom? If we read further, we see that the short-lived grasses in the field are recipients of God’s care and attention, suggesting that we, too, who are a little higher on the food chain, can also be beneficiaries of his care. “How much more” indeed will he do for us?

These verses talk about the most ordinary of things and how they are cared for by God. If we consider one of the world’s most common birds, the sparrow, and its life span of only about three years in the wild, it makes little sense that time and effort would be spent in caring for such fleeting creatures.

As humans, we would rather not invest in something unless there is some longevity to it. We don’t buy cars with poor service records or too-ripe bananas. We are reluctant to expend energy on a relationship if the person is only going to be present for a short time. We save our investments for those we can travel with over the long haul. Our tendency is to be stingy and hoard for ourselves.

Clearly, God is not like us. He is extravagant toward the most transient of things in the created world. He is not miserly and does not withhold his investments. We who are the pinnacle of his created work (even though most days this is difficult to see) have his attention. He remembers that we, too, are fleeting, “a passing breeze,” (Ps. 78:39) yet he is moved with compassion toward us. He has already lavishly given to us by entering into what it means to be human, with all of its inherent cares and concerns. He gifted us with his very life and marked us as his own with a guarantee of his care over us (2 Cor. 1:22).

God is calling us to relax into his safety net, which is spread out at all times, ready to cushion and catch us throughout our lives. He is inviting us to live freely and openly, knowing our needs will always be met.

Picture a child, her hands raised in the air, running through a field of wildflowers, hair blowing in the wind, the sun shining on her. She is enjoying the freedom and beauty available to children who are dependent on another to supply their needs. Maybe we can begin to live a little more like children, or the grasses and birds. There are still heavy things in our days, but rather than living like orphans weighted down with worries, we can receive the care of the Father.

This invitation to trust that Jesus is handing out here?  I’m going to RSVP with a resounding yes. How about you?

Sue Fulmore is a freelance writer and speaker, seeking to use words to awaken mind and soul to the realities of the present. Like a prospector panning for gold, she uses her pen to uncover beauty and truth hidden just below the surface of our lives. She is the mom of two adult daughters and lives in sunny Alberta, Canada with her retired husband. Connect with her in Instagram @gr8fulwanderer and at SueFulmore.com.

Photograph © Priscilla Du Preez, used with permission