DONALD IS ALL OF US SOMETIMES

Remember Erma Bombeck? She wrote a piece one day about a little boy named Donald. I have a feeling he was a composite rather than a real person, but I think getting inside of Donald’s head is a good way to emphasize how foolishly we all can sometimes capture more worry bugs than we know what to do with. And, please forgive me, let them bug us.

Before his first day of school, six-year old Donald proved he had worrying down pat. His thoughts were as follows: My name is Donald. I don’t know anything. I have new underwear, a loose tooth, and I didn’t sleep much last night. What if a bell rings and a man yells, “Where do you belong?” and I don’t know? What if the trays in the cafeteria are too high for me to reach? What if my loose tooth comes out when we have our heads down and are supposed to be quiet? Am I supposed to bleed quietly? What if I splash water on my nametag and my name disappears and no one knows who I am?

Yes, without any teaching, Donald had already learned the art of worrying.
Did you know that enough fog to obscure seven blocks of downtown Miami, when condensed would only fill a medium sized glass with water? Have you ever stopped to think that, like Donald, we make our fears bigger than they deserve to be? Fall victim to a fog that confuses our perception of reality. What I’m saying to each of us is …. Plug into the Lord on a regular basis. Be so busy so often putting our hands in a praying position we find it impossible to spend much time wringing them.

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

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