I don’t know about you, but sometimes I cannot help but worry. I might worry about a particular situation. I might worry about people I love. I also find myself worrying on a grander scale, such as about the state of our collective hearts and the manifestations of our woundedness that we seem to inflict upon one another writ large (a la the shooting in South Carolina and the abysmal state of racial justice in our society). Ok, so some amounts of worry is warranted.

But yet, I find myself returning again and again to these words Jesus said on a mountain all those thousands of years ago:

“Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Why are you anxious about clothes?  Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’ All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.”

As it happens, this is the liturgical reading for today. It always stops me in my tracks and slows down the pace of my worrying. It gives me perspective.

And it helps me to realize that the path forward is not worrying about all the little nitty gritty details ad nauseum (which in my case I know can lead to a never ending worry loop), but in seeking to build the reign of God and seeking God’s peace through justice–in essence, seeking to live with the heart of God today and every day.

That, my friends, is the path to life, and when we step onto that path, Jesus tells us, tomorrow will indeed take care of itself.