Toad and Frog Teach Dave a Lesson

Image from *Days with Frog and Toad* by Arnold Lobel – used without permission, arrrr!

My girls love stories at bedtime, so this week, I borrowed a digital collection of Frog and Toad stories from the library to read to them. One of these stories in particular felt personally applicable. I felt seen, as they say.

In a story called “Tomorrow,” Toad (shown in pajamas) has decided that today is going to be for Taking Life Easy, and all of his necessary tasks will be done Tomorrow. When his friend Frog asks about the dirty dishes, clothes on the floor, and general disarray of his house, Toad insists that it will all be done Tomorrow.

Suddenly, Toad is distressed (as pictured). Why? Because he’s worried, thinking about all his many tasks that await tomorrow. Frog replies that, yes, “tomorrow will be a very hard day for you.”

What if, Toad asks, I go ahead and wash my dishes now? And perhaps pick up my clothes? And so on, and so on, until all the tasks are done. Finally, he collapses back into bed, weary but now unworried, and decides that Tomorrow he will take life easy.

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For the record: I’m writing this post from a very messy home office, on the last day of a week of vacation spent at home doing many, MANY projects, with many still yet undone. But I do so while still at ease.

I have too often been Toad, wanting to take life easy, postponing necessary tasks to Tomorrow. My never-ending work queue or home project list has stood stacked against me for weeks on end, things being added as quickly as things are taken off, so that any break of longer than a day or two is tinged with low-grade worry about what is yet undone. This all rings very true. That picture of Toad above? That has too often been me (except I don’t have such snazzy jammies).

What’s important to realize is that during the course of this story, nothing materially changes. Whether it’s today or tomorrow, Toad completes his necessary tasks and he still gets time to rest. But there is one change that makes all the difference; leave it to a simple children’s story to hit you with such an obvious truth! The difference Toad experiences between the moment pictured above and the end of the story is now that his tasks are completed, his rest is untroubled by the worry of what’s undone.

Before taking this past week off of work, I spent a week or so working extra hours at night and on the weekends with one clear goal: empty the inboxes. If I could log off at the end of it all with all emails responded and all tasks moved out of my hands, I could shut down my computer and enjoy a week of not just no work, but no worry.

I gotta tell you, friends: it was worth it. No matter how many dozens of emails and tasks are waiting for me when I log on in about 17 hours, at this moment, I’m not anxious. I have barely thought about my emails for days. Feels good, bro.

Hopefully this feeling persists for the rest of the day. And hopefully, as I jump back onto the task-list treadmill in the morning, I will work harder and smarter to stay on top of things, so that my tomorrow’s don’t worry me quite as much.

#Septemblog Day 13: Feels almost like a throwback to another blogging era.

I used to blog as a way to vent my feelings in an overly dramatic and performative manner. My comments would drift into the overwrought and self-pitying. My perceptions of relationships and situations were hopelessly skewed.

What I’m saying is no one should document the inner life of their 20’s on the internet. It’s just a bad idea. (Are you paying attention, Gen Z? Listen to the old man’s advice.)

Yesterday was a long, tough day in the midst of a long, tough season. It definitely had its high points: aside from the daily blessing of working at home amongst my brood, we welcomed a dear couple over for dinner and were encouraged by their company and conversation.

But there were down notes and frustrations, hard conversations and bitter realities to confront. I sit here typing this past midnight, with a swarm of work assignments buzzing in my inbox like those murder hornets we were warned about a couple of years ago.

I’m tired, gang.

I’m also nervous. Tomorrow (that is, later this morning), I have an appointment with a dermatologist to get an initial exam and check-up. A necessary and prudent thing for an adult to do, but I’m nervous that something will go sideways as a result. I don’t have a lot of capacity for new challenges at the moment. Any unforeseen diagnoses will need to take a number and wait their turn on the Stressed Express.

Of course, it will probably all be totally fine and I’ll be good to go. It’s just as likely–much more likely. But fretters fret. It’s what we do. It’s a sin, and I need to repent of that, but that is my natural sinful tendency.

Okay, okay, I admit it. I have nothing really useful to say right now. I apologize, you sweet email subscribers (may your tribes increase!) for filling your inbox with hot air. Just file this one under “This is Where I Am Right Now.” I will try to keep these to a minimum.

I’ll have something positive, constructive, or entertaining tomorrow, I’m sure. Come back around and see me then.

Here. Here’s a song I’ve been singing with my girls lately. I need it as much as they do:

Friday Feed (1/29/2021)

Photo by Ir Solyanaya on Pexels.com — It’s not this cold where I am, but it feels this cold in my office at the moment.

Happy Friday, fam! Here are some interesting things I’ve found on the internet in recent weeks, for your weekend enjoyment.

I’ve been enjoying some animated short films recently, and I stumbled upon this one that I quite liked.
One of my favorite Sondheim musicals is Company, and this video from a few years back provides a nice analysis of what makes the musical work and how it’s been reimagined over the years.
I noted in an earlier Friday Feed that you can use people’s end-of-year book lists to figure out some solid picks by looking for repeat mentions. Well, Tim Challies does just that by giving you the consensus picks for best Christian books of 2020.
Last March, the folks at 9Marks listened to the most popular preachers in the country to find out what they had in common. The results were…not great. But it is instructive for those who have the ministry of preaching and teaching.
Cal Newport makes some observations about how working remotely may make it easier for people to demand more of you.
One more from Cal: a thought experiment about a chaotic factory.
This Art of Manliness post on the mid-life transition of a man’s life really resonates.
Samuel Sey warns that some attempts to be “anti-racist” may end up making you more racist.
Ted left Twitter. He suggests some good reasons why.
One more from Challies: this time, about worrying over the things we can’t control. Definitely need to read this from time to time.
“This is the part of the song that’s really quiet…”

That’s it for this week. See you next week! (How is it already almost February?!?)

“Is He good?”

I was struck by a thought during a night of fitful, fretful worrying.

It wasn’t a new insight, or a brilliant observation–just an old truth that sometimes needs to be reapplied to my anxious mind.

As I lay in bed, tossing, turning, fretting over the tightness of my chest, the shallow breathing of my wife, the shadows obscuring my daughters across the hall through our two open doors, the creaks and groans of the house, and all the other things outside of my finite control, the question flashed like lightning in my head:

Is He good?

Of course, He is, I thought. God is good. I’d never say otherwise.

Is He kind?

Yes, He’s kind. He is the very definition of kind.

Do you trust Him to keep His promise to do good to you and your family?

I paused. He promised that He would work all things to bring about my good. He has never broken His promises, because God does not lie.

Can He keep His promises?

There’s nothing He can’t do. He does all He pleases.

Then why do you worry?

…

That’s the rub, isn’t it. I worry and fret over things I can’t control, because (at least momentarily) I am tempted to doubt that God is good, that God is kind, that God is omnipotent. I’m tempted to disbelieve that He will keep His promise to work all things together for the good of those who love him and are called according to His purpose.

My sinful fretting is a feeble attempt to control the uncontrollable because (at least in that moment) I don’t really trust the One who is all-powerful.

The force of my will cannot heal illness or control the actions of any who would wish us harm. The strength of my worry cannot extend my life by even one hour.

But I serve a God who heals the sick, who turns the heart of man this way or that, who has the number of my days written in His book.

What’s more, this God that I serve? He loves me. He knows me. He cares for me. Because He is kind. He is good. And he is trustworthy.

Sometimes, I just need to remind myself what is true, and ask my soul why it’s so downcast.

“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

A Different Kind of Low-Carb Diet.

bed bedroom blanket clean — Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

Sometimes, our words reveal more than we intend.

My work day yesterday was broken up by some family responsibilities (yay, working from home!), so when I logged in just before dinner time, I got a bit spooked by my task list. I asked my wife if I could disappear for the evening to try to catch up some things. Back in the pre-WFH days, I would usually do this once a week to stay caught up.

At the end of the evening, as my wife was getting ready to head upstairs to bed, she said, “I’m sorry you have to work so long tonight.” I responded, “Honestly, it’s about 60% have-to, and about 40% anxious-about-my-inbox.”

A few minutes after she went upstairs, the Holy Spirit brought a Bible verse to mind, and I knew I was busted.

A Worried Mind

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it in this context, but I wrestle with fretfulness, specifically about the safety of my family. For me, going to sleep can be hard in a house that creaks and murmurs when the A/C kicks on. I have a semi-obsessive nightly routine of checking locks and alarms before bed, and if there’s even a bare question in my mind of whether I forgot one, I will go back and do it all again.

One of my current favorite Psalms is Psalm 127, particularly the first verse. I have to remind myself, as my anxious mind races when my head hits the pillow, that unless the Lord is watching over me, all the locks and alarms in the world wouldn’t help. I have to trust in his protection, for “You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety” (Ps. 4:8).

But it was the second verse of Psalm 127 that came to mind last night, as my wife walked upstairs:

It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. (Psalm 127:2)

The imagery there resonates with me so much: I’m prone to be up too late at night, chewing over the stale loaves of anxious toil, instead of receiving the gift of sleep.

I realized I was condemned by my own words. I was gnawing on the crusts of worry-work and missing the feast.

Unfortunately, I had also just washed it down with a carafe of full-octane coffee, so the gift of sleep would be a bit…delayed.

An Unexpected Blessing

What to do, then, in my caffeinated condition at 11pm? Take the unplanned opportunity and change my “diet” for the evening. I closed the computer, with its anxious crumbs, and picked up true food.

I was able to enjoy the Scriptures for a while, supplementing my reading with part of a commentary on the section. I nibbled at a few other spiritually-encouraging books. In short, I tried to redeem the coffee buzz!

When my head FINALLY hit the pillow (and I quickly prayed through my nightly temptation to fret), I wasn’t mulling over to-do lists and missed deadlines. Instead, I was grateful for all that God had blessed me with, especially the dear ones sleeping under my roof.

Tag: Worry