Monday, March 7, 2011


According to Merriam-Webster, worry is defined as:


 verb \ˈwər-ē, ˈwə-rē\

Definition of WORRY

transitive verb
dialect British : chokestrangle
a : to harass by tearing, biting, or snapping especially at the throatb : to shake or pull at with the teeth worrying a rat>c : to touch or disturb something repeatedlyd : to change the position of or adjust by repeated pushing or hauling


a : to assail with rough or aggressive attack or treatment :tormentb : to subject to persistent or nagging attention or effort
: to afflict with mental distress or agitation : make anxious
intransitive verb
dialect British : stranglechoke
: to move, proceed, or progress by unceasing or difficult effort : struggle
: to feel or experience concern or anxiety : fret <worryingabout his health>
— wor·ried·ly adverb
— wor·ri·er noun
— wor·ry·ing·ly adverb

Hard to read through that list and see any upside, and good, any point whatsoever in worrying, no matter how you define it. We had a guest priest a week or so ago, and he talked about the subject of worrying. He said that there is even a definition of "teen" that means "to worry."

Went to a big event on Saturday and saw two friends I hadn't seen since November. In November we were all wound up about different things going on in our lives, things, of course, over which we had no control but a whole lot of worry over. We checked in with each other about how each of those big concerns had played out. They had all worked themselves out better than fine, perfectly, one might say, if one believed in the concept of perfect. I prefer to think of "perfect" as "according to a higher plan."

"So, why were we so worried?" one of us asked the others rhetorically. "Let's give up worrying for Lent," another suggested. We raised our glasses, clinked, and swore to give it up entirely for Lent. For approximately 40 days we would not worry. Of course we are doomed to fail, and of course the idea that we could even try it was easier when we were together and had already had a glass (or three) of wine. However, we vowed to be more mindful of our worrying, and to look at it as it came up (and up and up and up) and say, "No, at this moment I am going to choose not to worry," then we'd offer a prayer of thanks that we knew all would be well, all would, in fact, be "perfect."

* Photo from


Cheryl said...

What a wonderful practice for Lent, Carrie.

Two lines I like from "A Course in Miracles"....

"If you are trusting in your own strength, you have every reason to be apprehensive, anxious and fearful."


"The presence of fear is a sure sign that you are trusting in your own strength."

Will be interested to see how Lent goes for you. Sounds like an incredible opportunity for growth.

Leslie at SugarAndSpiceADK. said...

I've been told that the cure for worrying is to practice gratefulness. Trying, trying!!! said...


kario said...

I love the first definitions that involve physical action because when I worry, that's exactly what it feels like - tearing at the throat.

That said, I've decided that having an anxious child is the Universe's way (funny joke!) of teaching me to stop worrying so much. When I can look at her worries from the outside and promptly pronounce them so much fluff, it makes me examine what I'm so worked up about. I am trying to be mindful of all of the times things worked out the way they worked out despite my fears and remember that this will happen again.


Elizabeth said...

from your mouth to God's!!

Deb Shucka said...

No worry and lots of Sabbath. Great recipe for Lent and life.

Unknown said...

peace to you in this , Carrie.

Unknown said...

I LOVE it! I'm giving that up, too. And I'm giving up gossiping. Such a waste of time.

Me said...

I wish I could raise my glass *clink* and not worry. Life would be almost perfect.

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