Our oldest daughter, Jo, is returning from Uganda to the United States on Tuesday.  Sue, Rose and I, in turn, are flying out to Paraguay on Thursday.  We will have two more weeks Jo her once we return before she heads off to college, and, between traveling to a friend's wedding and getting her sister Naomi all to herself, our being away is, in her eyes, no problem.  In my eyes, however, I see one more reason to worry and doubt.  "Should we have scheduled her trip so close to her return?  Will our oldest two be OK at home without us?  Is international travel safe?  Are airplanes safe?  Did I really hear from God about Paraguay, or am I leading my family based on my own agendas?  Am I a good dad?"  It's amazing how these thought can come so quickly and strongly.  

So this is what I've been wrestling with in recent days.  While mulling all this over, it occurred to me that I confuse worrying with caring.  I don't know where I get this from, and I guess that part doesn't matter.  The fact is I have it wrong.  Worrying isn't an indication of how much I care, it's an indication of how little I trust.  Worrying's not a sign of a big heart, it's a sign of tiny faith.  Caring is demonstrated by planning, providing, and praying.  It's demonstrated by making sound and safe decisions.  But worrying does not equal caring.  In fact,  I've heard it called the anti-meditation.  Instead of reflecting on the truth and goodness of God, worry has us thinking about lies and problems that may very well never come to be.

Then, yesterday  Rose and I were doing a show at the Bridgton Health Care Center, our local nursing home.  I was ending the program with a flower box production and talking about Jesus' words from the sermon on the mount;  “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? "  Without any prior planning, a thought came to me next and was immediately out of my mouth; "And why do I worry about flying to South America.  Look at the Canadian geese.  They don't use planes, but the Father brings them on migrations from one end of the world to the other.  Are we not worth more than geese."  

I then reminded the audience that, as they look out their windows and see the brown-eyed Susans growing in the unmowed field adjacent to their home, let them be a reminder of God's promise to care for us.  And as I see the geese in local fields fattening up for their upcoming flight south, they are also a reminder to me that He is good, and He is in control.