The Problem With Worry

Sunday Scribbling’s prompt this week is “worry”.  Questions were asked to help us come up with a creative scribbling, but I feel the urge to reply uncreatively, at least for a start. Here goes:

 
Are you a worrier?  YES!
Know one?  Aside from me? My Dad
Is there a particular worry that you can’t shake?  A lot
Ways of coping with worrying? Prayer and Meditation on God’s sovereignty and goodness
 
It’s interesting that this prompt came up this week, just as worry’s ugly head kept on intruding my thoughts this past couple of weeks. 
 
I am a worrier. I told you that already.  There are a lot of things I worry about.  If I try to scribble all about my worries, I would wind up writing a book instead of a scribbling.
 
Worry is unhealthy. It strips us of a lot of things, like joy, sleep, physical health and even friends. Did I say friends?  I did. And let me zero in on that  because that’s one demon I am dealing with right now. Worrying about friends and friendship. Not a good thing.
 
Lately I am finding myself avoiding a lot of church friends.  I am noticing it on myself more and more. After Sunday services, all I want to do is go home. I didn’t want to stay in the courtyard where we are supposed to be “fellowshipping” with one another. No, the word fellowship is not enjoyable to me, it actually worries me. 
 
My husband once said that he thinks the reason why I blog a lot and spend so much time in the internet is because I am lonely. I vehemently opposed him. I told him he was wrong.  And yet, right now as I am typing this I am thinking there must be some truth to that observation.  I think I am a bit lonely.  I think I am feeling displaced.
 
One big problem is that I avoid people who I think do not like me, and people who I think is bored with me and do not enjoy my company. This is a dangerous thing because I base it all on my perception on whether a person likes me or not.  I also based it on my intuition. It is very subjective.  This is really not a good thing. And maybe that is why I am scribbling about it – to let it out of my chest. To release it and not let that seed of insecurity grow.
 
I am feeling displaced and disconnected and a lot of it is my fault.  I worry about friendships but worrying about it will not do me any good.