p. 9 | Why Should I Worry? by Mark Guy Pearse

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Nov 25, 1909

Why Should I Worry?

By Mark Guy Pearse

If we could have anticipated our coming into this world, no dream of horror could ever have seemed so dreadful.

If we could have stood and said: “I am going into that strange world the most helpless thing in it. Of course, I shall know nobody, and, of course, no one will know me. I shall not be able to understand their language, and I shall not have the sense to know my own wants, much less to tell them to any one else. I shall be so little that, of course, no one will care for me; I shall be in everybody’s way and quite unable to get out of it.” O, the agony of it, and that cruel loneliness! . . .

No terror that ever came into a man’s mind in thought of going out of this world would have compared with that terror of coming into it.

And lo! we came — and a mother’s love bent over us. O, the marvelous and perfect ministry! Little — and yet because little, so unutterably dear. Weak — yes, omnipotently weak. Waited upon day and night with a service unwearied, a service that found its heaven in its ministry. The power that made a mother is the power that I can trust forever and ever. A mother is the “Fear not” of nature to our hearts.

Now may we think of our gracious God speaking to us: “Come, let us reason together, my child. There was a time when thou wert all want, and in that time didst thou lack anything? Was not every want anticipated and perfectly supplied? And the love that fashioned the mother for thee at the beginning of thy life is the love that still holds thee dear, caring as surely and sacredly for the wants of manhood and of old age as for the wants of the little child.” —Mark Guy Pearse, in “Christ’s Cure for Care.”