Really, what's the point of worrying about anything?

I have been a worry-wart in days past, but I’m learning that few things waste more energy.

Besides, it seems that the things you worry about don’t happen—on the other hand, those things it never occurred to you to worry about might. 

For example:  In 2004, my hubby was diagnosed with a rare form of thyroid cancer.   A brief work physical showed that his blood pressure was a bit high, and the nurse suggested he go to a doctor to address that.

I called and made him an appointment, and the doctor performed the first thorough physical Robin had had for years. It was then that he found a small nodule as he checked Robin’s thyroid.

The doc said it was probably nothing, but he recommended that he have an ultrasound, which led to a biopsy, which led to the dreaded diagnosis. 

We had never heard of medullary thyroid cancer, and it certainly never occurred to me to worry about anyone I knew getting it. 

This past summer, Hannah went to the doctor one fine day to find out the sex of her unborn child.  The ultrasound revealed that the baby’s heart was a bit too far to the right.  The doctor sent her to a high-risk clinic in Lexington where they confirmed that the baby had a serious birth defect called CDH. 

Again, whoever heard of such a thing?  Of all the things I can find to worry about in a day’s time, I never once thought to worry about something like this. 

I’ve wasted a lot of energy fretting and mulling over possible scenarios that never played out. 

However, I’ve noticed when the threats are real, I find strength to deal with them as the need arises. 

Some people say that they become greater worriers as they get older, as experience teaches them what a dangerous place the world can be. 

My experience has kind of been the opposite.  Even when I was a kid I worried a lot.  I’m still cautious by nature, but, by the grace of God, I’m not consumed by fear like I once was. 

At my age, I’m realizing I don’t have that much time to waste.