Would It Help?

I think there are two kinds of blog writers—those who can pump out pieces several times a week and those who post more sporadically. I certainly fall into the later category, especially as of late. On the one hand, this discourages me and causes me to question whether I should consider myself a blogger. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Always Orange just yet. I know there are cycles to a blog’s life just as there are in my personal life. Sometimes the ideas and the time are right at my fingertips. Other times, it seems a struggle to put together even a couple of thoughtful sentences. So for those of you who are faithful Always Orange readers, I apologize. Whenever you checked for a new post, there wasn’t one. If you are a new reader, well, you checked on the right day.

Last night Brad, Anna, and I went to see the movie The Bridge of Spies. Yesterday marked the last day of classes before Thanksgiving Break so this was our celebratory event to usher in the week-long break. Tom Hanks is the main character in the movie and gives an outstanding performance as attorney James Donovan. This is not a fast-paced movie. Some might even say it drags. In the movie, Donovan provides legal representation for the Soviet spy Rudolf Abel. Tom’s character negotiates an exchange between the Soviet Union and the US—American pilot Francis Powers, whose plane was shot down while on a spy mission over the Soviet Union, for Abel.

What really captured me was a line that Abel repeats on a number of occasions throughout the movie. Donovan asks Abel at different points, “Are you worried?” to which Abel responds, “Would it help?”

Would it help?

On the way home from the movie, I told Brad and Anna this was my new line. I am far more prone to worry and fear that I want to admit. My mind can spin in a hundred different directions depending on the situation. As a mother of teenagers, I worry. Jacob is 14 hours away by car. I have virtually no control over his day-to-day life. Even with Anna still at home, and more “under my control”, so to speak, I worry. When I am not worrying about my children, I worry about my husband. And then there is me and my issues. Worry is a close companion.

Would it help?

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus talks about worry in the Sermon on the Mount. “Can any one of you add a single hour to your life?” he asks. I think of all the hours I have spent worrying. Have any of the situations changed as a result of my worry? Not that I know of.  I want to pray more and worry less. On good days,  when I catch myself slipping into worry and fear, I stop and pray. At other times, I carry my worries and fears with me, pulling them out like treasured objects, examining them, mulling over them, inspecting them.

Would it help?

In light of the recent events in Paris, I imagine many of us feel we have a “free pass” for worry and fear. What will our futures will look like? Will we travel freely? Will we experience the loss of a loved one at the hands of terrorists? Perhaps this reads a bit grim on the cusp of Thanksgiving and a holiday devoted to gratitude. But I am grateful. I’m grateful for faith, which sustains and is real. I’m grateful for Scripture, which instructs and comforts. I’m grateful for daily reminders of God’s grace and love, which carry me through the ordinary moments of life.

So I have a new line. When I am tempted to worry or fear for my loved ones or whatever is troubling me at the moment, I will try to remember Abel’s wise words: would it help?

Blessings to you, reader. May your Thanksgiving holiday be filled with God’s peace and love.