Every morning when I first wake up, there is a moment, an instant, really, when life is completely still, calm, peaceful. I don’t yet remember yesterday’s worries or today’s plans—but more importantly, I haven’t yet felt and evaluated the day, its work—or how my body feels. It only lasts a milli-second, a nano-second, a breath or two—but I turn to that moment often in prayer as a helpful reminder.
That moment of peace reminds me of what it feels like to bring no baggage with me into the day. No anticipating the work. No plans to rearrange. No anxiety over how hard it will be, or how or what I will need to do to take care of it. No expectation and no regret. No super Girl Scout “be prepared” attitude. I just stand expectant, open to that moment and only to that moment.
This is what I hear Jesus saying to the Twelve when he directed them to “take nothing for the journey.”
When you live with a chronic condition, especially one that involves pain, it is too easy to live as if I already know how terrible life is going to be. Like a gypsy reading the future, I look at the palm of my hand or the cards on the table and find strange comfort in anticipating the pain, preparing for the problems, holding the fear at bay with an attitude of readiness. This also provides me an illusion of control!
But Jesus urges me to let go and take none of that with me. He invites me to just walk into my day and into my life counting solely on the power of the authority of He who is my Lord. I don’t even need to know how or if I’ll be able to do it well tomorrow. I only have to choose today to take nothing in my journey, and to trust Him with every detail of my life.
No, it is not easy. But it is do-able.
Choose today, only today