Mrs. Arable worries about Fern throughout the whole book. She thinks her daughter is hallucinating or losing touch with reality, even going so far as to consult the local doctor. In the end, of course, Fern chooses Henry Fussy and the Ferris wheel over her friends in the barn. She grows up.
Like Mrs. Arable, I worry about my kids. Both my daughter and son have a dance recital this weekend. My daughter's foot has been hurting for about a week. She even had an x-ray last Thursday. I'm worried she's not going to be able to perform Saturday night. My son is a little unpredictable. On a good night, he could be the highlight of his dance. On a bad night, he could be the highlight of his dance. I'm hoping for a good night.
Yes, I'm a worrier. I worry all the time. I worry about stupid things--ants in my bathroom. I worry about big things--bankruptcy and homelessness. My kids have been rehearsing for this recital for almost half a year. They're going to be great. I really don't need to worry about the recital. But I do.
So that's my prayer focus this week: my dancing children. I pray that my daughter's foot starts feeling better. I pray that my son doesn't scratch himself in an embarrassing place in front of 500 plus people, or pick his nose. And I pray for peace of mind for the next seven days.
By next Monday, Saint Marty will be looking for something else to worry about.
|I'm hoping this doesn't happen, either|