My grandparents had a lake house in Minnesota. Mom’s side of the family used it for vacations during the summer and weekends. It was a three-level “A” frame cabin with bright red carpet, a screened porch, a hammock stretched between two aspens and wooden stairs that seemed to stretch downward to the lake for miles. Gunk Gunk, the pet frog, lived on the shore.
My most favorite childhood memories are of fourth of July’s and summers spent at the lake. I learned to water ski when I was five and loved when Grandpa would take all of us cousins out to the middle of the lake, hand us each a sponge and tell us to, “Jump off the boat and scrub!” Cleaning was never so fun.
The lake meant rest for my family. A place to leave your worries.
I’m a professional worrier.
I’ve been doing it for at least twenty-five years now, sometimes daily; and although I’ve gotten better in recent years, I still struggle with worrying about the future.
I think I do this because I like control. And I can’t control the future, so instead I worry about it. I’m worried that by telling you I worry you’ll think I don’t have my worrying under control. 😉 Stupid.
The opposite of worry, I think, is trust. The more I trust God with my life and my moments and my people, the less I worry.
Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things [necessities from previous verses] 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: 33,34).
I love that Finn will grow up with similar childhood memories as me.
My grandparents (the ones who owned the lake house in MN) also bought a home near my parents, so we were able to hug their necks this weekend too. I’ve said it before…but in terms of family, Joey and I are filthy rich.
The trees are so beautiful and the wind feels so good in my face and I love the sound of the water lapping the wooden planks of the dock. Tomorrow has enough worries; right?