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  • Writer's picturerhianprime

Don’t Worry - Penny Snowden




Are you a worrier? I am. My father used to say to me that I would even worry about not

having anything to worry about. Do you return home after setting out to double check that

the front door really is shut tight? Or, do you decide to make certain that you turned the

oven off?


We all know, don’t we, that it’s far better for us and for our well-being to become more

serene and relaxation techniques abound such as mediation and prayer and the practice

of yoga. The pandemic has highlighted our need to de-stress and also to realise that

worry can be a feature for most of us.


However it’s not a modern phenomenon by any means - in fact it is an age-old problem.

The Bible gives us advice on this -


"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has

enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34


and


“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with

thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all

understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6,7


or


“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke

upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for

your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30


This lovely poem from Mary Oliver sums it up for us:-



I Worried


I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?


Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?


Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.


Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?


Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.”


― Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems




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