Freedom from worry

"I don't want him to develop my fears," I told Scott as we were sitting outside with Preston; we were enjoying the slightly fall evening, and Preston was chucking rocks in the flowerbed. This was said as I was simultaneously checking the the flowerbed for spiders ahead of Preston, telling him to "wait until Momma knows it's clean."

"Yeah, then don't do that," Scott replied.

OK. Good point.

But how do I keep from doing that? I remember being a child and rolling in the grass and walking along the top of the monkey bars and hurtling myself out of a swing at the peak of its path. I did this without fear of spiders or injury or falling. My biggest fears where the imaginary ones — the Boogieman under my bed or the police sketch of the Unabomber.

There was a time a couple of years ago where I couldn't go to sleep for fear that I would die in the middle of the night. This fear gradually built up over time, and my anxiety won over many battles to the point where I would have a panic attack most nights. My childhood Boogieman fear was replaced with a sudden, suffocating worry about my own mortality. It was miserable.

Thankfully that is in the past, but it doesn't mean that I'm still not a huge worrier, whether it's about my family, work or school; big things like my faith, middle of the road things like Preston still not eating finger foods, or small things like what shoes are the best for a fledging walker.

In our class at church on Sunday, we were talking about how a lot of our worries are based on things that aren't real. A lot of those worries are unfounded. I had no major health problem that would cause me to die in the middle of the night, and a lot of the things I stress about will get done or ultimately resolve themselves. I want to give Preston that same feeling of freedom I had when jumping out of the swing and not have him anxious about spiders in the flowerbed. Heck, I want that feeling of freedom, too!

I think about that when I read that Jesus calls us to be like little children. Preston is unaware of little made up worries. Instead he trusts that I'm there and going to take care of him. I'm a reassuring presence nearby, so he is blissful and happy in whatever he is doing. I know that God is there, watching over me, so why should I worry when I have His reassuring presence nearby? He's offering me that same, simple happiness.

God is always teaching me something new through Preston — how I should be and the love that He feels for me. It's a humbling responsibility to be given and an amazing blessing to see every day.