Quiet Talks on Service Part 12

Worry: A Hindrance to Service.

Fear Not.

A Fence of Trust.

A Lord of the Harvest.

Do Your Best--Leave the Rest.

Anxious for Nothing.

Thankful for Anything.

Prayerful about Everything.

A Steamer Chair for His Friend.

He Has You on His Heart.

Paul's Prison Psalm.

He Touched Her Hand.

Worry: A Hindrance to Service.

(Psalm x.x.xvii:1-11; Matthew vi:19-34, Philippians iv:6-7. American Revision.)

Fear Not.

There is nothing commoner than worry. Everybody seems to worry. Men worry.

Women worry. It is commonly supposed that women worry more than men. I doubt it. After watching both pretty closely under all sorts of circ.u.mstances I doubt it. Yet if it be true that woman does worry the more, I think it is because, being more sensitively organized, she is more keenly alive to the issues involved and to the responsibilities of life.

Poor people worry. Those with enough money to be easy worry. And those with the largest wealth seem to worry too. Busy folks worry. And so do the idle. The cultured and scholarly touch elbows with the ignorant here.

Americans are supposed to be specialists in worrying. The name Americanitis has been given to a certain run-down condition of the nerves.

Well, we may possibly have set the pace, and may be making new records.

But certainly there are plenty of pus.h.i.+ng followers. Our Canadian neighbors seem not to be wholly strangers to worry. Nor our British and Dutch forbears. The European continentals, and those of the East nearer and farther off seem to be good or bad at worrying. It is a characteristic of the race everywhere, the difference being merely in the degree. It seems inbred in man.

There are two "don't-worry" chapters in this old Bible, one in the Old Testament and one in the New. In the Old Testament is the Thirty-seventh Psalm with its oft-repeated "fret not." The word under that English phrase "fret not" is significant. It is so blunt as to sound almost like a bit of American slang. Literally it means "don't get hot." The New Testament has the sixth chapter of Matthew with Jesus' own words. One should be careful here to note the better reading of the revision. The old version says "take no thought," and that has been misunderstood by many who have not thought about its meaning. The newer translations are truer to the meaning on Jesus' lips. Do not take _anxious_ thought, "be not anxious." But apart from these two chapters there is a phrase running through these pages clear through the whole Book, a phrase shot through, piercing everywhere, even as the glorious sunlight pierces through the thick cloud and fog. I mean the phrase "fear not." All worry roots down its tenacious tendrils in fear.

A Fence of Trust.

It will help to understand just what worry is. It is always an advantage to get an enemy clearly defined and keep it so, so you can hit it harder, and make every blow tell on a vital part of its anatomy.

Worry is not concern, but distress of mind. Some one said to me at the close of a talk on worry, "some folks ought to worry more." Of course he meant that some people should bear their share of the responsibilities of life, instead of selfishly and lazily s.h.i.+rking them. There is a proper concern about matters for which we are responsible. A man never makes a good speech unless there is a feeling of concern, of apprehension lest there be failure in that for which he is pleading. A strong sensitive spirit feels the responsibility and does the best to meet it. Worry is mental distress. It is sinking under the sense of responsibility. It is _yielding_ to the fear that there may be failure, instead of gripping the lines and whip and determining to ride down the chance of its coming.

Sometimes worry is carrying to-morrow's load with to-day's strength; carrying two days in one. It is moving into to-morrow ahead of time.

There is just one day in the calendar of action; that's to-day. Planning should include a wide swing of days; wise planning must. But action belongs to one day only, to-day.

"Build a little fence of trust Around to-day; Fill the s.p.a.ce with living work And therein stay; Look not through the sheltering bars Upon to-morrow; G.o.d will help thee bear what comes Of joy or sorrow."

"Live for to-day, to-morrow's sun To-morrow's cares will bring to light, Go like the infant to thy sleep And heaven thy morn shall bless."

A Lord of the Harvest.

Sometimes worry is carrying a load that one should not carry at all. I think it was Lyman Beecher who said that he got along very comfortably after he gave up running the universe. Some good earnest people are greatly concerned about the way things in the world are going, I'm obliged to confess to some pretty serious blunders there. It seemed to me that there was so much to be done, so many people needing help, so much of wrong and sin to fight that I must be ever pus.h.i.+ng and never sleeping. I had to sleep of course; but all my burden, which meant the burden of the world's need as I saw it, was lugged faithfully to bed every night. There was a lot of pillow-planning. But I found that the wrinkles grew thick, and the physical strength gave out, and yet at the end of vigorous campaigning there _seemed_ about as much left to do as ever.

Then one day my tired eyes lit upon that wondrous phrase, "the lord of the harvest." It caught fire in my heart at once. "Oh! there is a _Lord_ of the harvest," I said to myself. I had been forgetting that. He is a Lord, a masterful one. He has the whole campaign mapped out, and each one's part in helping mapped out too. And I let the responsibility of the campaign lie over where it belonged. When night time came I went to bed to sleep.

My pillow was this, "There is a _Lord_ of the harvest."

My keynote came to be _obedience_ to Him. That meant keen ears to hear, keen judgment to understand, keeping quiet so the sound of His voice would always be distinctly heard. It meant trusting Him when things didn't seem to go with a swing. It meant sweet sleep at night, and new strength at the day's beginning. It did not mean any less work. It did seem to mean less friction, less dust. Aye, it meant better work, for there was a swing to it, and a joyous abandon in it, and a rhythm of music with it. And the undercurrent of thought came to be like this: There is a _Lord_ to the harvest. He is taking care of things. My part is full, faithful, intelligent obedience to Him. He is a Master, a masterful One. He is organizing victory. And the fine tingle of victory was ever in the air.

Do Your Best--Leave the Rest.

I knew a mother one of whose sons was not a Christian man, and not of good habits. She was a devoted true Christian woman, bearing her part in life's service with fine faith and a keen sweet spirit. The children were all Christians but this one, her first-born, the beginning of her strength.

The thought of him troubled her much. She prayed fervently, and used her best endeavor, and the years grew on without change. And her face showed the burden upon her fine spirit. We would talk together about her son, and pray together, but her brow remained clouded.

Then I marked a change. The lines of tension in her face relaxed. A new quiet light came into her eye. There seemed a gentle intangible, but very sure, peace breathing about her. And I knew there was no change in him. So one day in conversation I ventured to ask about the change. And I shall always remember the gentle voice and the quiet strength with which she said, "I have given him over to my Father. And I know He will not fail me. I am still praying, of course, as ever, and I am _trusting_ for him."

She had been carrying a load that she should not have been carrying. And now while the mother-heart was still concerned as much as ever, the sense of a.s.sured victory brought the change in her spirit.

Sometimes worry is fretting over past mistakes; it is chafing about what we do not understand, or about plans of _ours_ that have failed. A good deal of worry comes from pride and over-sensitiveness. The roots here, it will be noticed, of all alike are down in our own failures, our own selves. And there would be cause for more worry if we had only ourselves.

But we have _a Father_.

A very great deal of worry is wholly due to physical causes. Overworked nerves always see things distorted. Huge phantom shapes loom up before us.

Overwork always makes a sensitive spirit worry, and worry usually makes us overwork until we drop from exhaustion. When the cause is here, there are some simple _human_ helps. Some--a good bit--of _G.o.d's_ fresh air will work wonders. Even good people seem unchangeably opposed to _G.o.d's_ air, and insist on breathing old, worn-out, used-up second-hand air. G.o.d would be greatly glorified if housekeepers and church s.e.xtons were given a practical course in the use of fresh air, G.o.d's air. With that should be simple food, and simple dress, and abundant sleep, and simple standards of life.

Worry is utterly _useless_. It never serves a good purpose. It brings no good results. "Which of you can by being anxious add a single span to the measure of his life?" Jesus asks in that sixth of Matthew. But much more can be said. _It brings bad results_. The revision brings out the clear, simple meaning of the Thirty-seventh Psalm, eighth verse. The old version seems a bit puzzling, "Fret not thyself in anywise to do evil." The revision reads, "Fret not thyself, it tendeth only to evil doing." The results of worrying are always bad. The judgment is impaired. One cannot think so clearly nor see so clearly. The temper is ruffled. The door is quickly opened to worse things.

It is _sinful_ to worry. For the Master repeatedly commands us, "Be _not_ anxious." It helps to get a habit labeled correctly. Here to tack on "sinful" in block letters, black ink, white paper, so as to get greatest contrast is a decided help. And worrying is a reproach upon Jesus. Let the Gentiles, the outsiders, the people who have not taken Jesus into their lives, let them worry if they _will_. But _we_ must not. For we have _Jesus_. Let these who leave Him out grow crow-toes, and deeply-bitten wrinkles, and turkey-foot markings. Without Him how can they help themselves? But we folk who have _Jesus_ should have smoothly rounded faces, the lines all filled up and ironed out. It reproaches Jesus before folks for us to be as they are in this regard.

Out of the midst of a great pressure of work, with a body tired out, Dr.

Charles F. Deems, the busy pastor of The Church of The Strangers in New York City, wrote these lines years ago:

"The world is wide, In time and tide, And G.o.d is quick; Then _do not hurry_.

"That man is blest, Who _does his best_, And _leaves_ the rest; Then _do not worry_."

A man should do his _best_. There should be no _s.h.i.+rking_. Yet I need hardly say that here, because s.h.i.+rking people, lazy people do not worry.

They haven't enough snap about them to worry. But it steadies one to put the thing just as Dr. Deems put it. "_Do your best, and_, then _leave_ all the rest to G.o.d." And when sleep time comes, sleep.