Worrying

Dear Me,
Worrying gets you nothing. The Bible has a good point when it asks, "Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" Maybe you should contemplate that instead of freaking out.
Much love,
Me
P.S. Don't you find it a bit odd to be writing notes to yourself?


Sometimes I wish I had a TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space, for those of you not in the know) to ride around in. And I don't say that because it would mean I was one of the Doctor's companions, although that would certainly be an added bonus. What I mean is I want a time machine to jump me a few weeks into the future so I can bypass this daunting worrying waiting time.

With the disaster in Japan still plunging the country into chaos, I don't know what my future holds. All the plans I had, the goal I was striving for, is suddenly lost in a mist of worry and confusion. Japan is facing the crisis of a lifetime; I'm pretty sure getting another American over there to teach English really isn't a high priority.

And as much as I desperately want to fulfill this dream, I find myself wary of entering a country that could soon be awash with radioactive winds. My thyroid is already crapped out, so radioactivity and I wouldn't make good friends. Besides, I'm crazy enough without a third arm suddenly sprouting from my chest. Laser vision would be cool though.

All joking aside, this is a scary time. And I don't mean for my own insignificant future but for the path that is laid before Japan. This disaster is not over. Even when the media finds reporting on Japan to be mundane and switches back to the ever so important updates on Charlie Sheen, the effects of the earthquake will still be prominent in Nippon. The country has been changed.

Yet despite all my worrying, whining, and whimpering, nothing has been improved or altered. There is nothing I can do for Japan right now as much as my heart may break for her. I can only sit here thousands of miles away and watch her pain from a screen. And I can pray, intercede on her behalf that God's glory somehow shine through this mess.

But worry? No, the only thing that will accomplish is giving me premature gray hairs, which would lead to worrying about plucking them out, which would then lead to worrying about creating a bald spot, which would lead to...you get the idea. It's a vicious cycle.