“Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”
― Corrie Ten Boom
It is easy to tell someone not to worry. I am guilty of doing that very thing on an extremely frequent basis and in many different circumstances. Recently, I have become much more aware of how redundant that statement can be and how little it does to alleviate the concern of the person doing the worrying.
Worry is a big part of the human condition. We spend countless hours stressing about the things we cannot foresee, cannot control and cannot change. We are designed to be thinkers, to be problem-solvers, and in those brief moments that we are left without an answer or a contingency plan we submerge under the waves of the unknown.
For as much as I try to not unsettle myself with things out of my control, today was a glaring reminder of how quickly worry can overtake us and truly drain us of our strength. There is a small path in the carpet in my office where I paced back and forth. There is an emptiness in my stomach where nourishment should have found its place, but didn’t. And there is a dull ache in my temple from the inescapable habit of clenching my jaw when I am apprehensive.
Today worry was the cat and I was the feeble mouse. I was victim to its cunning and could do nothing more than to hide in the metaphorical corner and play dead, hoping that the insidious predator would leave me alone.
Now I sit, writing this post with a slightly more peaceful feeling than I had earlier today. Worry still beckons, the concerns of tomorrow still evident, but it holds much less power now than it did earlier today. I have regained some of my tenacity so I can face tomorrow with a new courage.
Worry may be strong but I am stronger.
image credit: Worry by Zdralea Ioana – http://www.fineartamerica.com