What, me worry?

Normally, I love to hear the sweet tweets of the birds, but today outside the window of our office their joyful clamor tells me that they are very busy. Each spring, against our wishes, they attempt to build their nest under the eaves. Twig by twig, on and on, they flutter to and fro.

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Do you think they are worried about the economic crisis? the war overseas? what to make for dinner? if they look fat in their outfit? Nope! They're like Alfred E. Newman from MAD magazine. Remember him? His signature line is "What, me worry?" That was Jesus' line, too!!
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"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matt. 6:25-34

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Take note that Jesus compares worrying about these things to being like a pagan! Ouch!

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After hearing the birds yesterday, it was my husband who suggested today's post. Now he is a natural-born worrier, descended from a long line of worriers. Yet, God has shown him the futility of worry. He told his mom once, "Worry is like a rocking chair. You spend a lot of energy, but don't get anywhere!"

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I think it's important to note that freedom from worry does not mean sitting back, resting, doing nothing, hoping for God to provide. The birds don't expect their nest to materialize on its own. They spend countless hours searching and building. It's just that they don't fret about it.

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I think it's time we all became "birdbrains!" What, me worry?

Susan