Oh, to be a bird of the air or flower of the field with no capacity to labor or spin. They simply live and move in the midst of their Creator, they grow and build and do as they were made to do. But I have choices to make and a will to contend with. Standing at the cross-roads of fear and life, I have to choose life with every step or worry will grow up like a tangled weed and consume all signs of hope.

straw flower

Sometimes it’s the big things like you might think, like big dreams and small faith rubbing against each other in my heart. Other times it is in the small things, where fear and worry try to creep in among the happy chatter of the everyday. Either way, I am reminded of those birds of the air who do not store away in barns, yet their Heavenly Father feeds them. Or the lilies of the field who grow in spite of their lack of labor.

“Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to her life?” Matthew 6:27