Why Worry? by George B. Thompson

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 17, 1910

Why Worry?

By George B. Thompson

GEO. B. THOMPSON

THOUSANDS worry. Many professed Christians put in days and nights anxiously fretting about things real or imaginary. And as a result of this, many have had their peace of mind permanently wrecked, their health ruined; and some have gone to the insane asylum or committed suicide as a result. Yet worry never improves, or helps, an unfortunate circumstance. Who can arise and truthfully testify that he ever received any help from a period of worry?—not one. Then why do it?

To the man without God or hope in the world, there is perhaps some excuse for fretting and being anxious about things, for he knows of none to help him. But with the Christian it should be different. He should never act as if there were no God, or that he was sleeping or unmindful of the needs of his creatures. God cares; he is a Father; he is a present help in every time of need, and bids us cast all our care upon him. He is both able and willing to help us.

A manufacturer took his little daughter to visit his factory for the first time. The child was terrified by the deafening roar and din of the rapidly revolving machinery which surrounded them, and clung terrified and sobbing to her father. “What are you afraid of, my child? Don’t you know that I am master here?” he said. “Look!” And he lifted his finger. In a moment every wheel was still, every sound hushed.

So with Jesus. The program of events is in his hands. The machinery of circumstances is under his control. The circumstances which surround your life and mine, and the perplexities which tend to harass us, are within the reach and control of an infinite hand. Then why worry through unbelief?

When the disciples were toiling amid the billows of the storm-lashed Galilee, seemingly about to perish among the elements which they were unable to control, the simple words of appeal, “Lord, save us: we perish,” brought deliverance. With a word Jesus hushed the tempest, and stilled the foam-crested billows which threatened their destruction.

When Paul was rocked amid the angry billows of Adria; when sun, moon, and stars for many days were unseen, surrounded with criminals and an unbelieving crew in whose heart all hope of reaching port had died, the servant of the Lord stood forth and said, “And now I exhort you to be of good cheer: for there shall be no loss of any man’s life among you, but of the ship. For there stood by me this night the angel of God, whose I am, and whom I serve, saying, Fear not, Paul; thou must be brought before Caesar: and, lo, God hath given thee all them that sail with thee. Wherefore, sirs, be of good cheer: for I believe God, that it shall be even as it was told me.” Acts 27: 22-25.

In our lives there are days of tempest, sunless days and starless nights, when, if appearances were the only guide, all hope might well be abandoned. But God is greater than these. Clouds surround Jehovah’s throne.

“He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.”

In the midst of the storm and danger, Paul, though in chains, rested his head on the bosom of Omnipotence. It is our privilege to do likewise. The same God who saw and understood the needs of his servant on the sea, and then sent an angel to cheer him, will do the same for us; for he is no respecter of persons.

It is said of Bulstrode Whitlock, Cromwell’s envoy to Sweden, that upon a certain occasion he was so disturbed in mind over the state of his nation that he could not sleep. His servant, observing it, said to him, “Pray, sir, will you give me leave to ask you a question?”—“Certainly.” “Do you think that God governed the world very well before you came into it?”—“Undoubtedly,” was the reply. “And do you think that he will govern the world quite as well when you are gone out of it?”—“Certainly,” he replied. “Then, pray, sir, excuse me: do you not think that you may trust him to govern it so long as you live in it?”

This well illustrates the point. Worry removes no burden, only adds greater ones. The Christian can well rest the affairs of life in the hands of an infinite God who is too wise and good to err. At the close of each day we can say, in the trustful words of the poet:—

“The day is ended: ere I sink to sleep, My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine. Father, forgive my trespasses, and keep This little life of mine.

“With loving-kindness curtain thou my bed, And cool with rest my weary pilgrim feet; Thy pardon be the pillow for my head. So shall my sleep be sweet.

“At peace, dear Lord, with all the world and thee, No fears my soul’s unwavering trust shall shake. All’s well whichever side the grave for me The morning light shall break.”

The writer is not unmindful of the fact that this is a world of trouble, that man is of few days and full of trouble. There are heartaches and sorrows all about us while pilgrims through the valley of the shadow of death. Afflictions await us all. Death robs the home of those we love. Yet amid it all we can trust. We can be perplexed, though not cast down. We can dwell on the Israelite, rather than the Egyptian, side of the cloud. We can rest, rather than worry, though the eyes be dimmed with tears. Like Job, we can exclaim in trial, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” This is possible for the trusting child of God through receiving the peace of God which passeth all understanding.

Takoma Park, D. C.