becoming less anxious

Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants (Luke 8:7).

I paused here to understand the difference between the thorns and the rocks, but the commentary explained that the seeds among thorns were those who were destroyed by worries. Ouch!

Remember when we were young and loved to go barefoot, or if not barefoot, we would plunge our bare hands into the pricklies of nature? On "nature walks" in summer school we would stop our progress to pull what we call "bear claws" -- long pronged, prickly masses designed to entice little boys (and girls for self-defense) and ward off birds. By the time we returned to campus we were all covered in them for the invisible spurs clung to our clothes and hair and wiggled into our skin.

Then there were thistles that took hold of our imagination because Eyore ate them and they protected the most beautiful bushel of a flower. We broke the tender skin from our young fingers to beautify our play or entice the white horse, Somerset, to the fence.

If you ventured into the hills or brush of any kind, you and your dog would emerge covered in burrs, those with bold spurs that surely jumped out and attacked you. How else could so many work their way into socks and hair and backside.

Have you ever tried to prune or pick roses? Then you know how the stiff limbed rose will stick you with the lightest touch like impressive and painful velcro.

If you're a born worrier such as me, these images begin to make sense. I'll walk into responsibility and duty like I used to walk in the rolling California hills, and I'll walk out with so many burrs, or worries, they'll be dropping off of me with many more interwoven into my very fabric. This is painful and ridiculous; there is protection for this kind of behavior.

One thing is missing from this analogy: the snowball effect. For example, medical researchers are trying to claim that worry can be inherited. As if I weren't worried enough! When I was pregnant I would repeatedly read that stress or worry would infiltrate the embryonic environment and curse my child for life. Instead of undoing worry, anxiety would enter a nasty cycle.

Yet there is peace to be had: 41 But the Lord answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things ; 42 but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her." At the same time He convicts, He reassures with "Martha, Martha." Once could be read too many ways, but twice saying her name comes across as a most gentle rebuke--there's still time to reprioritize. And the priority is clear: God first.