More From Keren Dibbens-Wyatt

When I was very young, I used to take the little worries to God. I was an anxious child, and it wasn’t hard to grow into an anxious teen and then an equally anxious adult. The older I got, the more I seemed to have to worry about. So many things could go wrong! And yet, underneath those concerns, there was a deep quiet and a calm voice. I knew that whatever happened, it was okay for me to bring my fears—however small or huge—to God in prayer because God loves me.

If I confided in the grown-ups in my life about something that was causing me concern, they would usually tell me not to be so stupid; or worse, they would laugh. But in my falling-to-bits copy of the New Testament, Jesus told me it was okay to come to him with childish things, with my worries and cares. In Matthew 6, which we might well read alongside today’s meditation about Matthew 10, Jesus tells us not to worry. He explains that God is taking care of life’s necessities and watching over us at every moment—and God’s care includes everything from lilies to sparrows to humans. Jesus said, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matt. 6:26, NIV).

Since I wrote today’s reflection, I’ve been considering the worries of birds far more, especially as we have moved to a new home. We had to wait a long time to move, and it was hard. Our old house was too small, damp, moldy, and cluttered. Additionally, the street we lived on was noisy and quite frightening at times. Thank God, we are now in a more rural setting with a bigger garden. I know from our long wait that God does hear and answer worried and anxious prayers, and desperate prayers too.

Although I mostly have to watch nature from an upstairs window because I’m chronically sick and disabled, I have spent the late spring and early summer rooting for all the fledgling sparrows and starlings that have gradually emerged from our hedges. Peter tells us, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7). This is advice we might also wish to give to young birds who are about to fly for the first time, if we could. They peek out of the leaves, turning their heads urgently from side to side. What is this strange new world outside of the nest?

I used to feel that Jesus was commanding us not to worry, as if it irked him when we worried. But as I read both these passages in Matthew’s gospel now, I feel that Jesus sees and accepts us as whole people along with our doubts and anxieties. Yes, Jesus works with us and encourages us not to worry, but he does this by showing us his generosity and grace. He is letting us see what will happen when we, like a small bird stretching its wings or a disciple about to tread on water, take those first wavering steps. Whether we fall or fly, sink or swim, we are fully known and in Jesus’ loving care.