At a table scattered with pizza crust and glass water jars with dripping sweat rings, I sat across from two friends as we took turns updating each other on our kids’ lives. Between us, we have eight teenagers. Needless to say, it was a long, heavy, laughter-laced conversation. “The bigger the kid, the bigger the problems,” my friend reminded us. She’s right, but the three of us also know the bigger the kid, the bigger the satisfaction when they blossom.
In the middle of our conversation about our concerns and how we were praying through them, it occurred to me that my prayer life has been stuck on repeat for some time. The needle of my internal record player had dropped and found itself trapped in the same position. A stream of recent prayers filled my mind like a song of lament. The familiarity of the petitions and requests reminded me how easily I practice rehearsing my anxieties through prayer.
Over time, my prayer life has become a concentrated form of worry. A place where I practice my fear. A place where I play out the worst case scenarios and clutch at my worries as if I possessed the power to change them.
I shared this with my friends and again with my coach, and each one of them offered the same gentle corrective. I could end the rehearsal of my anxieties by focusing on gratitude and adoration in prayer. These prayerful practices remind me of my place as a created being, and remind me of God’s place as Creator and Sustainer of all things.
This does not come naturally to me. At times, I pray myself into a fearful frenzy, which is a sure sign that the focus of my prayer life is, once again, solely on me and not on God. Gratitude and adoration lift the arm of the repeating record. They allow me to sing a new song–one that lifts my eyes to the omniscience and omnipresence of a good God.
It’s a relief to release the false narrative that I can somehow, through concentrated worry, change the outcomes for me or my children. I feel lighter and less burdened. I am the created, not the Creator.
If you find yourself struggling to silence the same song on repeat, I recommend replacing it with David’s 23rd Psalm as a form of worship rather than worry.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” ~Psalm 23
