Anxiety and the Bigness of God

I'm sitting in a rustic, little retreat center overlooking a mostly frozen lake. My stomach's in knots for reasons unknown to me. My phone shows no bars, but -- miracle of miracles -- they do have wireless internet service!

It's been a long day already. Up before dawn, on a plane, rent a car, drive 100 miles into the middle of nowhere to help some folks think strategically about how to reach out to families in their community.

And this strange anxious feeling in my gut that I cannot explain won't go away.

The sky overhead is low and gray -- foreboding. They're saying it might snow tonight.

Still, the words from Isaiah 6 ring in my head: The whole earth is filled with his glory. The earth can no more contain the glory of God than a thimble can contain the Pacific Ocean -- than a child's sand bucket can contain Niagara Falls. Downtown Atlanta (where I left this morning) certainly cannot. Neither can these West Virginia mountains where I sit this afternoon.

He's too big for this earth. Bigger than all my cares and anxieties -- known and unknown -- knowable and unknowable. Big enough to take care of my wife and kids back home. Big enough for 2005. Big enough for 2006. Big enough for today.

Well, my salad is on its way from the kitchen. I should close this out.

I feel that anxiety slipping away a little.