10 Lessons The Birds Taught Me About Worry

I spun like a crazed woman on a treadmill, except for the fact that I was actually on an elliptical. My arms moved as if they were ready to punch the world right out of my way. I was really going to finally get myself somewhere. I was going to knee pressing issues right out of the way.

I was the wild gym-goer -
the girl trying to force herself to new ground -
ground that was unattainable to get to.

I kept spinning. Spinning worries. Spinning problems. Spinning up things that could go wrong. Building a whole lot of motion that was moving me nowhere.

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Motion.

In my mind's dictionary, it means:
1. Trying to force yourself to go, make progress or get ahead.

In the dictionary of classical mechanics (which, I know by heart, of course), it means:
1. A body either is at rest or moves with constant velocity, until and unless an outer force is applied to it.

An outer force? There was no outer force around me, just an inner force, an inner force of doubt driving my pursuits.

I didn't trust "Outer Force" would work on my timeline, or according to my demands or with my outcome. God may have some answer like, "Kelly, wait." Or, "Kelly, my will is being done."

I get frustrated with those kinds of answers. I get internally irate and put an arm up - choosing worry over wonder.

Do you do the same?

Pumping. Sweating. Pressing in - to my more. I considered God.

And, suddenly, a little somebody popped up right before me through the giant window. He was chilling. Eating. Laughing, almost - at me. His truth arrived softly.

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10 Lessons on Worry Taught by A Bird:

1. If the birds are happy and carefree - this can be me.

2. Just as the birds pluck for ample food on the ground, so does ample food surround. God doesn't provide the limited, but unlimited opportunities. I need only see them.

3. There is always more food, more providence. Life is not feast or famine; it is a continual feast. The birds don't walk heads down, they walk heads high. Good is about to come.

4. It doesn't matter what everyone else has. There is plenty.

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God has intentionally mined the ground with "glorious riches." For me, Jesus is more than enough. (Phil 4:19)

5. There is no need to let' joy robbers bump me. God has them on their own path for food and joy. I can stay on mine.

6. There is an invitation by God to frolic and fancy life. I am invited to a game of chase. I am invited to dance. Like the birds, I can grab hold of the belief: Days pass and life is short, so make the most of it.

7. There is a call to adventure beckoning me. Like the birds, I can ride into thrill of the woods - fearless.

8. Birds don't have one dang concern about pending storms or world issues. I don't see them building bunkers or walking around with defensive artillery. Letting go of threats, I can be present.

9. To see God's creation everywhere is to see peace everywhere. Birds keep looking for it. They soak things up.

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10. They have a birds eye view. I can too. I can choose to see disappointments as designed appointments to learn more and see past the immediate. I can see new heights and the new life I am being trained for.

These birds sing, "You gotta trust the bird's eye view to get through."

My velocity and intensity settle. My arms feel like they can finally be - at rest. I soak it all in.

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God has this.