He’d been shot and waited for a field surgeon to come to him. Others lay waiting also, but crying and screaming, but he flipped through his book’s pages, ignoring the chaos and violence around him.
That is the true story of an Allied soldier during the D Day attack on Normandy, as told by journalist Cornelius Ryan. He would probably die, either from loss of blood or a second bullet. The field surgeons might never reach him. He might be overlooked and abandoned or blown into pieces. He didn’t seem to care.
Many would argue he was insane.
But I would argue he was the sanest of all the wounded.
He had no idea whether he would live or die, but he didn’t worry about it. Undoubtedly he was in physical pain, but mentally he was at peace.
Much of the U.S. is overcome by fear. We look at our president-elect and the government overall and are afraid. We look back at our history of war and at our current world of terrorism and are afraid. We look at the economy and the justice system and at immigration and education and LGBT rights and are afraid, in one direction or another.
“When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer” (Lamentations 3:28, MSG).
I think we’re running at the mouth and forgetting to pause and contemplate, seeking God’s voice and peace. I speak for myself as well. Just like our bodies need sleep to function healthily, our souls need to “enter the silence” to be at peace.
And a major step towards doing that is letting go of our worry.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life….Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly” (Matthew 11: 28-30, MSG).
We are always on the go, always talking, always surrounded by noise, and we forget to seek peace.
In different wording, the verse reads: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29, NIV).
The author of Lamentations understood this. I would dare to suggest the Allied soldier might have too. His tranquility under pain and in the midst of a battlefield just isn’t human. But even supposing there was nothing spiritual in his actions, he still illustrates the point: worry will only eat away at you and not change the outcome in any way. Worry means you’re trying to be in control or believing another human is in control. I might even go so far to say that worry is failing to trust God.
We should do our part, whether that means diligence in school or work, dedication to relationships, or involvement at the social and political levels. Once we have, however, it’s no longer in our hands and no amount of stress or worry can make it so. Instead, we need to move on, “enter the silence,” and focus on our task of loving, knowing and sharing God. Then, and only then, we can move on to whatever else may be on our earthly agenda.
“God’s strong hand is on you….Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you” (1 Peter 5:7, MSG).
But if our minds are constantly filled with noise and work and worry, we’ll forget that. We’ll miss God’s offer of peace. He’ll still watch over us, but we’ll miss out on enjoying that care.
