Anxiety
M. Justin Wainscott, © 2010
I received a phone call this morning
That’s made me anxious all the day.
The outcome’s out of my control,
But that’s certainly not stopped me
From being consumed with wondering
And fearing and hoping what it will be.
At the heart of the matter is the glaring fact
That in my heart I don’t trust the matter
To a God who promises good for me.
I care far too much about my anxieties,
Not nearly enough about casting those cares
On the only One who truly cares for me.
My anxiety is really self-sufficiency,
Disguising itself as something else, something less.
Just so you know, I wrote this poem yesterday, and everything turned out fine.
