faith unfaded

Scrolling social media today, I saw we’re on day six of a government shutdown. I try to stay informed, but I still have that “ostrich” instinct to bury my head in the sand when the world feels overwhelming. It’s a pendulum swing from my time in Ochsner’s PICU with a critically ill child.

The waiting room mantra was simple: prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

Doctors told us to brace ourselves, and we did. When she died, I carried that survival instinct everywhere. I thought it was wisdom, even faith in action: if you prepared for the worst, it would hurt less when it came. But really, I was living life constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

One day I told a therapist about my strategy. He looked at me and said words I’ll never forget:

“You mean to tell me you spend half your life worrying about something that will never happen? Do you realize how much life you’re robbing yourself of?”

Jesus put it this way: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34).

I’d never seen it that way. I was stockpiling anxiety for hurricanes that never made landfall, bracing for storms that turned out to be drizzles.

And I was driving myself crazy.

He was right. What protected me in crisis was poisoning me in normal life.

These days, I call myself a “pragmatic idealist”—or maybe an “idealistic pragmatist.” I know life is messy, but I still believe in the universal good. I can’t control politics, predict the economy, or erase uncertainty. But I can choose not to live pre-disappointed. I can meet life as it comes, trusting that God equips me for the real battles—not the imaginary ones.

So no, I’m not glued to shutdown coverage. Not because I don’t care, but because I refuse to let my mind camp in darkness. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Worry won’t help the people who are hurting. But praying, giving, serving, and living with faith? That does make a difference.

I’m no longer preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. I’m preparing for eternity with Christ—and sharing hope with others along the way.