Worry, Worry, Go Away

Worry, Worry, Go Away

     Welcome.

     If you are new, feel free to click-about. I need to pause in writing posts for a while but plan to return before long. 

Large Shadows

     I was a young mother. Worry followed me around the house - all day.  I carried it like I carried the baby on my hip. My husband was laid-off from work and contemplating a career change. We were busy giving the walls of the house a fresh coat of paint, covering over children’s fingerprints; making the place ready for sale. We thought it best to be available to move to wherever his next position took us.

     For the sake of the children I hid my worry under a small smile. It was a forced cheerfulness. By the end of the day I was weary of anxiety and physical exertion. When all was dark in the night I said a prayer. The words seemed trapped below the ceiling. It was a short and sincere prayer. I was saving the scary details, my deepest feelings, for the morning. Exhaustion can give problems disproportionately large shadows. In the morning, in the pink tinged rays of dawn, peeking through white ruffled curtains, I would have a clear head. I decided to make this my worry hour. For the time being I knew God heard my abbreviated message no matter how I was feeling about the ceiling. I closed my eyes.

The Worry Hour

     As a young mother and home teacher, I understood the importance of scheduling set times for things. I learned to give worry its allotted time, too. A set-time is needed to be personal with God and cast all my cares upon Him. I can also acknowledge His greatness, confess undeserved-ness for His redeeming love, glean from Scripture, quiet my heart, and count my blessings. A busy day is ahead of me. And so I need my worry hour. It doesn’t usually take an hour. It might be ten or fifteen minutes. But then, throughout the day, if the gray clouds roll in for the fifth day in a row, if I stay up too late or experience insurmountable fatigue caring for a sick loved one  – I am not haunted by anxiety. I needn’t carry it around. I faced my fears already - during the worry hour.

Primitive rock wall on our property in Maine 2003. Spring Ferns

Simple Pleasures

          We gather simple pleasures like daises - by the way. Louisa May Alcott

     To chase away clouds of worry it helps to “gather simple pleasures.” For all of my adult life I’ve enjoyed writing paper letters and walking them to the mailbox. In Maine the walk took twenty minutes. A Maine spring is much anticipated. The crisp, cool air of a walk is exhilarating. I would notice the progress of the ferns uncurling or the daffodils emerging from the bulbs I had dug into rocky soil the year before.

Front Yard. Maine 2003

     The cemetery lawn would be covered with purple phlox come spring. In the woods around it grew a large patch of lily-of-the-valley that rooted themselves there, from a finished pot of flowers flung over the fence, I surmised. Each walk revealed a twittering bird – almost always a cheerful chick-a-dee. Walking among the birds can smooth away a frown. It uses up nervous adrenalin. And it gives us a moment to “consider the lilies.”

Cemetery on our property in Maine - Pease is the name of a character in P.P.

     Carol in Pocketful of Pinecones felt herself slipping into the darkness of worry when her husband was out of work. She came across something in her reading that brightly illustrates Mathew 6:30. Because in Maine I had walked along a rutted dirt road this passage spoke close to home. 

I saw a delicate flower had grown up two feet high, between the horses’ path and the wheeltrack. An inch more to right or left had sealed its fate, or an inch higher; and yet it lived to flourish as much as if it had a thousand acres of untrodden space around it, and never knew the danger it incurred. It did not borrow trouble, nor invited an evil fate by apprehending it.  Henry D. Thoreau

Update

     I am no longer a young mother. After decades of changes-of-circumstance I’m a little better at not worrying. It’s a wavering conscious effort. Sadly, our service to Rainbow Resource Center has ended. Dean is actively searching for a position that will take full advantage of his many years of executive management, marketing, and motivational teaching experience.  He has posted his resume on LinkedIn.

Pennsylvanian work horse. You never know what will find you on a nature walk.

     Our adult son, who suddenly became handicapped over a year ago, is scheduled for long-awaited medical treatment – not covered by insurance - the first two weeks of March. I am also scheduled for in-hospital medical treatment during the same weeks, but the insurance company has denied the claim - pending appeal. Thank you for your prayers and well wishes. It will be a trying two weeks.

With my Needle

     Because I am asked, “What are you stitching,” here is the new sampler I started. I’ve abandoned a large project for several portable ones. My married daughter told me she fancies a house sampler. I chose an alphabet (from one chart) and asked her what color she’d like the house (from another chart). I will enjoy fitting in spots of birds and flowers (from still other charts). The house color is a toss up. Will it be red or gold? I’m waiting to hear.     

Ready to bake in the oven

Comfort Food

     Have you ever made stuffed mushrooms? The Man-of-the-House finds them a delicious treat. I remember watching his grandmother make them. My stuffing is like hers but without the bacon. Chopped onion or shallot is cooked in olive oil along with the chopped mushroom stems and parsley, mixed in a bowl with bread, raw egg, grated cheese - baked - served as an appetizer or in an anti-pasta.   

Say it Isn’t Snow

     Another way I am “gathering simple pleasures” is by displaying an over-sized book on seasons, illustrated by Eloise Wilkin. It must be spring. The little girl is wearing a fur-lined jacket but do you see what’s in her mitten? She clutches a handful of pussy-willows, violets and a jack-in-the-pulpit. (Salix discolor, Viola, Arisaema atrorubens). Delightful. After a couple days of this book-cover-of-hope on display, I impulsively reached for a ball of wool. I started knitting a pair of mittens like the one on the girl’s hand, adding a rickrack design similar to it. Books have a way of seeping their influence into the crevices of our lives. Teddy is prepared for a chilly spring with mittens made for him. 

Hope Everlasting 

     I love the richness of the old hymns. Contemporary songs – though simple - can also chase away the clouds. Click the album cover to link to Laura Story’s “Blessings” in case you haven’t heard it. Are you weary or worrisome? Could you use words of hope? Dean and I have been conveying a message of hope to our son and ourselves in as many ways we can think to express it.

     Sometimes His blessings come in raindrops.

I'll be with you again, come spring, Lord willing.

Until then, write anytime,

Karen Andreola

Post Script 

     I placed news with the comments but thought to give the good report here.

     With an appeal to the insurance company my specialist's office got my treatment approved. I will be admitted to the hospital after all. We were previously (and firmly) warned by the nurse that no time is taken (and ever has been taken) for these appeal processes. The chronic pain doctor has thousands of patients.
     I believe God unlocked and opened a door for me.
     Praise.