Dear God, I’m coming.
I’m coming to You because I have to.
If I stay where I am, I’m stuck in a not-so-nice place.
In this not-so-nice place I am worried:
worried about money
worried about losing all my savings
worried about paying my credit cards
worried about paying my attorney
worried about the leaking roof
worried about taking care of the house by myself
worried about keeping the car going
worried about the bizarre noises the refrigerator makes at night
worried about my business
worried about getting new clients
worried about tithing
worried about wearing the same clothes over and over
worried about whether I chose the right school for my son
worried about whether he’ll make new friends
worried about whether I should go out
worried if I’ll ever be asked
worried if my appetite will ever come back
worried about my ex-husband’s behavior
worried about my son’s safety
worried about all the things he wants for Christmas
worried about whether I’ll ever get published
worried about how to help my son when his father explodes
worried about how to be a single parent
Oh God, this place is rough!
This place is hard.
This place exhausts me.
It’s full of problems.
This is The House of Worry.
You don’t worry.
Where You live there is peace and plenty.
What is it You can’t do? What is it You can’t fix?
What is it You can’t provide? What is it You can’t heal?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Everything is done.
Everything is perfect.
All is provided.
All is enough.
All is well.
In the presence and power of God, all is well.
More than well, all is perfect.
More than perfect, all is divine.
Divine because all is whole and holy.
That’s where I want to be.
I want to walk in the presence and peace of God,
where all is whole and holy,
where I can be whole and holy,
not scattered by worry, not shattered by fear,
not blocked by “I can’t.”
I don’t want to drag this worry with me,
and I rather imagine You don’t want it.
So, I’ll leave it here.
Leave it behind in The House of Worry,
a place I’m going to depart.
I want to make you a deal, God.
I want a new job:
a job without worry, a job without pain,
a job full of joy, an “I can” kind of job.
I want to switch employers, God. I want to work for You.
I’ve been working for me and it hasn’t been going so well.
The problems are tough.
The worry is great.
The pay is atrocious.
And the results—my results—are pathetic.
But if I work for You, I know the work will be perfect.
It won’t even feel like work because I’ll be doing what You want me to do,
what I am here to do. What is that, God? What? What do You want me to do?
I can write. I give good speeches. I tell funny stories. I make people laugh.
Sometimes, I even make them cry. Anything there You can use, God?
You’re the boss. You tell me what You want and I will do it.
This will be my new job working for You:
Show up where Spirit asks.
Do what Spirit wants done.
Say what Spirit wants said.
God, how will you pay me?
What will I earn?
Joy, peace, prosperity, love?
All of them I’m sure,
but something more.
Something big. Something so big it seems un-nameable.
Wonder.
That’s the best word.
Wonder.
My heart will be filled with the wonder of God.
I’m ready.
Your house is greater than mine.
Your work is easier than mine.
You are a better employer than I am.
You make wiser choices than I do.
I’m leaving The House of Worry and coming to You.
I’ve made the decision.
I’m getting up.
I’m dropping this load.
I’m walking into the peace and presence and wonder of God.
I’m ready. I’m so ready.
I see myself whole and holy working for You.
I’m signing up with You, God.
I’m coming.
I’m walking as fast as I can.
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