Center of the Universe (and it ain’t me)

Although I make the attempt every Sunday morning to focus on what the preacher is saying and not the cute baby in the row in front of me or what I plan to make for lunch, there is not a sermon goes by but I get a stray thought that must be immediately written down so it won’t be lost. The thought isn’t based on the sermon, unless you want to argue that the word of God is what jogged the thought loose and sent it tumbling from the confusion of my brain into the conscious part that oozes out my fingers and onto the margins of my church bulletin. Yesterday was no exception.
This is what I wrote:
“We worry about the small things because we are the center of our universe, and we know we are weak, fallen, fallible, and not to be trusted with our future. We worry because of the part we imagine we play in all that happens. When God becomes the center of our universe, we worry for nothing.”
Worry can lead to senseless behavior. It can lead to drink. Beware.

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