I’ve been a worrier since I was a wee child. I worried or should say worry most about those around me – that something would take them from me. I know I shouldn’t, as Christians we are old to worry not but that is easier said than done.
I grew up in Christian home. I was taught the Bible. I was taught the prayers. I learned that Jesus Christ died for my sins and that the only way to heaven is through accepting our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ into my heart. Which I did.
I always did as I was told.
I also grew up as a child with this constant fear that I wasn’t “saved enough”. I asked for forgiveness for every single little transgression no matter how tiny it was. I asked Jesus to save me every day for fear I would go to hell or miss the Rapture. I was around the ages of 7-9 when this sort of thing was going through my mind.
I know how I sound. I sound like I was some crazy, unstable child. I wasn’t. I’m not. I know better now. But as a child, I was always trying to please those around me – to do the right thing – to never ruffle the feathers of my father. Looking back, I’m thinking maybe he is responsible for ultimately making me feel like I was always in danger of slipping into the darkness away from God. I’m not trying to play the blame game. I’m just looking back and seeing things quite clearly right now or at least I think I am.
Am I saying that I am not a Christian of my own accord? No. But I have been on this journey trying to figure out what I think. What does Tracy believe? What do I really and truly hold up as truth? My truth? Does this make sense? I am just trying to be me. I’m 38, soon to be 39 and all these new thoughts, feelings, considerations and beliefs have been fluttering around inside me for the last several years.
I need to believe because I, Tracy, actually believe them for myself not because someone else brought me up in that system.
And as I wait to hear word how my uncle is doing, I find myself praying silently to God for his good health and recovery because praying to God just comes naturally to me – even after long lapses in communication with Him. I cling to Him without giving it any thought. It comforts me so and then I realize I DO have the strength of that tree. It is always there waiting for me to draw upon it. The worry isn’t quite so profound now as it melts into loving concern.