The Pride of Worrying

I've never labeled myself as being a prideful person.  To me "pride" was always depicted in the egomaniacal braggy braggart types.   Pride is sinful.  Pride is to be abhorred.  Pride leads to ruin (Proverbs 16:18).  Pride will get you nowhere (Proverbs 26:12).  Pride is a sign of very high self-esteem.  So this couldn't be me, since my self-esteem resides somewhere between your shoes and the door mat.

But, it turns out I am prideful.  Maybe not in the Webster's Dictionary sense of the word, but in a deceitfully hidden offshoot definition of the term.  You see, I'm a worrier.

Worry might seem like the antonym of pridefulness to the naked eye but, if you look a little closer (like all of us worriers tend to do), you'll see exactly what I mean. 

When doing my Bible study yesterday morning, I realized that worry produces the very "Me! Me! Me!" mentality that we often use when describing egomaniacs.  "How is this going to effect me?", "I can't do this.", "This is just too much for me to handle."  Worry, worry, worry.  It may not be boastful in the very least, but it's certainly a preoccupation with self.

I'm a champion worrier from a world-class bloodline of them.  People who say they strive on stress are an enigma to me.  Stress just gives me the scoots!  I've always strove to pursue the simple life depicted in I Thessalonians 4:11, "...make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands..."  That's the loveliest of prospects to me.  Favor calmness, mind your business and keep busy.  But, being the champion worrier that I am, I can even screw up the simple life.

Someone once told me that I handled a certain life-or-death situation that our family once faced so well and that I was so strong during this time.  I was flattered, but this comment also left me stunned. Mainly because my memory of the same situation is of me running to the bathroom to throw up the entire contents of my stomach and then praying as fervently as a new convert on death row, because I didn't know what else to do.  What this person witnessed was actually just God's answer to my sloppy prayers.  My being numb by fear, producing the image of calm and His granting of that Peace That Passes All Understanding that held me upright and helped my legs to move forward and my spirit not to faint.

The Peace That Passes All Understanding has been God's greatest gift to me during the hardest points in my life.  But, I seem to let it slip away during the typical day to day needs.  My habit of worrying is the ultimate peace-blocker.  I don't know why I choose to overanalyze and worry over the simplest things.  And, yes, it's a choice!   Don't fool yourself into thinking otherwise.

My current worry, of course, is my job search.  When the office I worked for closed down in February, it was a very stressful time but also a release into freedom.  I had become frustrated in working the same position for eleven years straight and all upward mobility had begun to slide backward.  I was granted seventeen weeks of severance and I saw it as a time to unwind, relax, pursue creative endeavors and then eventually pursue a new career path.

Now that I'm down to my last six weeks of mini-retirement, the pressure is on to figure all of this out and quick.  I cringe at listings resembling anything to do with my last position, but find those are the only positions that I'm qualified for with the job market in my area being very sparse.  The spirit of common sense would remind me that I liked my job and that it wasn't until the wheels of the office closure were set into motion that my job duties started being taken away and reassigned to other offices, leaving me frustrated.  And, all of those other industries that seemed so appealing at the time, merely on the fact of being different, now turn out to be much less intriguing upon further research.  It's time for big life decisions.... and those are the kind I have no idea how to make.

Instead, I worry that I'll finally get into a new job and end up hating it.  I worry that I'll spend a decade at the next place and wind up frustrated again.  I worry that my new boss will be mean, that my new coworkers will be gossipy, that I will be sexually harassed, that I won't like the hours, that I won't get good medical coverage, that my breaks won't be at convenient times to accommodate my Hypoglycemia... The list goes on and on and gets more ridiculous as it goes.  But, the biggest worry of all is that I can't see the future and that's scary.

The curse of having a colorful imagination is that you will find incredible ways to misuse it.  I haven't once overthought the possibility of being overpaid, meeting nice people, having flexibility in new roles, learning something not only new, but interesting.  Why is it that those thoughts don't come as easily?  I'd like to blame the hardwiring, but knowing that The One who wired me does not want any of us to think that way, I have to take the credit.  Or blame.  Me. Me. Me. Me!

So, moving forward, I would like to welcome Peace into my life, all day, every day.  Not just during the hard times or when I realize that I need it.  I'd like to start to using my imagination for good and not evil.  I'd like to pray more sloppy and emotionally, like I do in hard times, because it's at least sincere.  And, I'm going to try to learn to choose not to worry.  It will be a hard habit to break... but, my tummy will thank me.