Some dear friends blessed us with a short vacation recently by watching our kids so we could get away for a few days. We went out to the country and enjoyed crisp, pollen-filled but no pollution, air. The first night my husband called to me, excited. I figured he had found a frog. That tends to make him excited. When I went outside I saw he wanted me to look at the stars with him. I started to step out where his hand was held out for me but then fear gripped me. It was pitch dark and there were a cacophony of nighttime sounds. Plus, there could be snakes.
Hi, I'm Court, I'm a worry addict. Even when I tell myself things like: you know that worry is just Satan's counterfeit to prayer. And he's the bad guy in this story, so why don't you just pray? I still more often than not find myself drifting to worry more than to prayer.
The thing about worry is sometimes you miss the stars because you're too busy looking down for imaginary snakes instead of up at the heavens. My sweet husband was trying to get me to see something I would never see in the city. All the lights and pollution drown out the full glory of His fantastic painting up there. I glanced up for a brief moment and then resumed my frantic head sweep all around me. He gripped my hand and gently told me to relax. I tried for all of about . 0372 seconds. I then frantically dashed back up to the stone porch. Reasoning to myself it was safer there even though the last time we were out here the one snake we ever saw had been on that same porch. I peeked out from there, but it wasn't the same. For the light from the house was drowning out the glory. Funny that God designed His glory to shine brightest in the absence of other lights. That in the darkest it is prettiest.
All of that was lost on me that evening but later I would think on the snatches of sky I got to see and how if I would have just forgotten about stupid snakes perhaps I could have worshiped Him in a sweet moment. Funny that snakes slither in now and again and try to distract us from worship. One day they won't though, for the big snake is the bad guy in this story. And I'm happy to tell you he gets his butt whooped. Next time I'm going to look up at the glory and forget about the silly snake (that's likely not even there anyway) beneath me.