The Worriers

BY Melea J. Brock, REPRINTED WITH PERMISSION

Melea Brock is a marvelous writer and storyteller who "tells stories for the child inside everyone." Although she gets her inspiration from the Christian faith, the analogies she uses resonate with a wide audience. Visit her website Right Side Up Stories to learn more about this special woman.

A family that worries about everything finds peace when God invites them to live freely and lightly.

There once was a family…a family of five-Walter, Wilda, Walt Jr., Winnie and little Willie Worry. And oh, how they did worry, that is. They had a nice home, nice neighbors, nice jobs, nice schools, but they never really know it because Walter, Wilda, Walt Jr., Winnie and little Willie Worry were too busy worrying. They were wearisome worriers. Why they could out-worry the best of 'em. In fact, Walter and Wilda came from a long line of worriers. Both their mom's moms and their dad's dads were worriers and rather proud of it. For you see, when you worry you don't make too many mistakes. You're pretty wary of everyone and everything. Wow, could they worry!

They worried about waking up on time. Upon awakening they then worried about the weather. And because of the weather worrying, the wondered when and to wash and wax the car and when to wash the windows, because one never knows when the weather's going to take a turn for the worse.

They worried about what they ate and whether what they ate would make them gain weight or wane and waste away.

They worried about the way-out economy and the rising cost of wax paper, Necco Wafers, windshield wipers and bottled water. And was it really wise to have your wisdom teeth pulled?

And sometimes, but not often, they worried about the world and whether people in this world would ever grow weary of having their own way. Now, that's pretty noble worrying, if you ask me.

They worried about their neighbors next door-the Websters and their teenage son, Wesley. Walt, Jr. and Wesley were good friends. They were in Mr. Witgenstein's World Civ class and planned to go to West Woonsocket Tech and study word-processing whereupon graduation they would probably wed two winsome women (one each, of course), buy Wedgewood china, work out at the gym and wait for the big break. But wait, I'm wandering-back to the Websters.

You see, the Websters sometimes took trips on weekends to visit Grandma Webster who was ill, but still very wiry.

The Worrys worried about Wesley on those weekends. They worried the cars that came to the Webster's with wiggly, giggly teenagers. And well, why would any parent leave a wahoo kind of teenager all alone to weigh and make weighty decisions? What would he eat? When would he go to bed? Where was he going with all of those friends?

On those weekends when the Websters were away, the Worrys got in a whole week's worth of worrying. They were worn-out by Wonday, I mean Monday. But still they felt it was worth the worry because they really cared about Wesley and the Websters.

The Websters were the least of their worries when you added them all up though. There were the three different schools their children attended which averaged several hours of worrying per day. You see, they worried about the education Walt, Jr. Winnie and little Willie were receiving. They wondered about the teaching wearing pants-Miss Williams and Mrs. Watson, that is. And would the wearing of pants by Miss Williams and Mrs. Watson affect their children's education?

They wondered about Coach Weston and why wasn't he warried, I mean married. After all, he was thirty-three! Yes, he seemed very warm and had a winning way with the Walhabi Walrus Water Polo Team, but what was he waiting for-the perfect woman?

They worried about little things like wasting paper in the classrooms, the wax coating on the milk cartons, watering the football field after the weather had taken a turn for the worse. And whether saving the watcha-ma-callits from the tops of soda cans would really save the Whooping Crane from extinction.

They worried and they whined to one another, but they never really wanted to get involved. After all, they weren't sure whether they should make waves about these worrisome issues. Surely some other wonderful parent had worried over these very things and made someone aware. And if not, oh well. One can only do so much worrying.

They worried about their jobs and worker's compensation, withholding taxes and the soap in the washroom.

They worried about their church and why weren't there more willing workers willing to walk the walk they walked.

They worried about the city they lived in Walhabi, Washington-and whether they'd ever have a Dairy Queen like the one in Wenatchee, Washington. The one in Wenatchee used real water-processed decaffeinated coffee and real whipped cream in their Blizzard shakes.

They worried about the reputation of the great apple state of Washington. You see, they could never ever seem to find those little Winesap apples in the Winter and these apples were supposedly available in the Winter. Why?

They worried about the United States and warm weather trends from the Mount Saint Helen's eruption in 1980. And they worried about preserving the wildlife of these United

States such as wild rice, wild oats, wild pansies, wild parsnips, the wild rose and the infamous game of wild pitch baseball.

Their worry even stretched world wide-to the World Wide Web, of course. And the Windsor Castle in England and the Windsor Family and the Windsor chair, the Windsor knot, the Windsor tie and were there more Windsor somethings in this world to worry about besides all the Windsors they already knew about?

And then one day while the Worrys were sitting on their Windsor chairs, having waffles and going over the worries of the day the phone rang. It was God. Wow!

Oh yes, God knew the Worry's. He loved the Worrys. He wanted something wonderful for the Worrys.

You see, he had tried waking them. He had tried whispering to them. He had tried warning them. He had tried whacking them one. Why God had even tried the wire service. God had something to say to the Worrys.

It was going to startle their stingies, flap their unflappables, wham their worries. The potential was promising. The possibility for monumental and momentous discovery was waiting to be welcomed by the Worrys.

Well, it was Wilda Worry who picked up the phone that day.

"God?! As in God the Father?" Her voice quivered with worry as she listened.

"Yes, Walt, Sr. is right here eating his waffles. Yes, Walt, Jr., Winnie and little Willie are here too. Put them on the extensions? Right away, God."

Wilda turned to her family whose jaws had dropped wide open and said, "Grab a phone! It's God!"

They didn't walk. They all ran to the nearest phone and waited and wondered and worried about what God was going to say.

"Yes, God. We're all here," said Walt, Sr.

"Worrys, I want to say something to you. I've been trying to say it to you for a long time." His voice sounded warm, not wild with wrath.

"Yes, God. What is it?" their voices waned a bit.

"My beloved Worrys, are you tired? Worn out? Burned out?"

"Yes," they all said …even littlest one.

"Then come to Me. Get away with Me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with Me and work with Me. Watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of my Grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. You keep company with me, my beloved Worrys, and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

The Worrys had never heard such words before.

"Let me see if I have this right, God," said Walt, Sr. with wonder in his voice. "We give you our worries and you'll give us the peace that passes perception?"

The Worrys couldn't see God smiling on the other end of the phone, but He was.

"Yes," said God, "That's exactly what I want to give you. Peace-my peace."

"Well, speaking on behalf of all the Worrys, God, I think we'd like to walk and work with You. If you're not too busy right now, could You come over right now for some waffles?"

And God said, "Oh, I've been waiting for you to ask. I'm on my way. In fact, I'll bring the whipped cream for the waffles!"

© Copyright 1995, Melea J. Brock