One Day at a Time

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

Matthew 6:34 NIV

Never in my life have I had to rely on God as much as I have in this last season. Over the past month, I have pleaded with Him to intercede in my daughter’s life as we walked through that painful chapter called the NICU. I have pleaded with God to heal my wife’s diabetes and to keep her cancer in remission. I have prayed desperate prayers over the people I love most.

But trusting God to act in your own body feels different. It feels more intimate. It feels more vulnerable. It forces you to face your own fear, your own pain, your own weakness, and your own inability to control the outcome.

Three weeks ago, I underwent a spinal fusion procedure meant to correct the damage caused by a severe vehicle accident while I was riding my road bicycle. For a while, I thought I was finally beginning to turn the corner. Up until about ten days ago, I would have told you that things were improving and that the major surgical pain was beginning to settle down.

Then everything changed.

I went to sleep one night, and when I woke up, I could not feel my left leg. My right hip felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing me with an ice pick, and the sciatic pain shooting down my right leg felt like it came straight from the pit of hell. It had intensified beyond anything I expected.

I was completely bedridden by this new onset of pain.

What terrified me most was that all the pain in my extremities had disappeared after surgery. That had given me hope. Even though I was dealing with surgical pain, I believed the surgery itself had been a success. So when these new symptoms appeared so suddenly and so aggressively, my mind immediately began racing.

Did I do something wrong?

Did something break loose?

Did something shift?

Would they have to operate again?

Was all of this pain coming back?

The questions came fast, and so did the fear.

Then I remember the very moment the enemy began to whisper, “The surgery was unsuccessful, and you will always be a prisoner to your pain.”

Immediately, I rebuked that lie in the name of Jesus.

But I also had to be honest with myself. Even though I rejected the enemy’s lie, I could not deny the concern I felt over the sudden onset of new symptoms. Faith does not mean we pretend we are not hurting. Faith does not mean we ignore what is happening in our bodies. Faith means we bring our fear, our pain, our questions, and our uncertainty under the authority of Jesus.

Praise God, after viewing my scans and speaking with the doctor, he confirmed what God had already been speaking to my heart: my healing is real, and God is true to His Word.

The doctor explained that the symptoms I was experiencing were normal because of the sensitive nature of nerves. Since the impingement had lasted for such a long time, there was uncertainty and unpredictability about how long these new symptoms might last. But praise God, we are not limited by man’s understanding of medicine.

Doctors can give reports.

Scans can show images.

Medicine can explain processes.

But God is still Jehovah Rapha, the Lord who heals.

I praise Him for the work He has begun in me, and I trust Him to complete it. I bind every lie, every fear, every hindrance, and every attack of the enemy in the name of Jesus. I refuse to come into agreement with anything that contradicts what God has promised.

I can sense the enemy trying to do everything in his power to make my faith waver regarding the promise God has given me about complete healing. He wants me to focus on the pain instead of the promise. He wants me to replay worst-case scenarios instead of remembering God’s faithfulness. He wants me to believe that this setback is the end of the story.

But the enemy is a liar.

God knows me. He knows exactly what I need. He knows how to strengthen me when I am weak. He knows how to comfort me when I am afraid. He knows how to speak peace when my mind is racing. He knows how to remind me that I do not have to live tomorrow’s troubles today.

That is why Matthew 6:34 has become so powerful to me: Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Jesus did not say tomorrow would never have trouble. He simply told us not to borrow tomorrow’s trouble before we get there. He knew we would be tempted to carry things we were never meant to carry. He knew fear would try to drag future problems into present moments. He knew our minds would run ahead into all the what-ifs.

But grace is given for today.

Strength is given for today.

Peace is given for today.

Mercy is given for today.

If this journey has taught me anything, it is to take one day at a time and rely solely upon the Lord. I cannot heal myself by worrying. I cannot speed up recovery by panicking. I cannot change tomorrow by being anxious today. But I can pray. I can trust. I can praise. I can rest in the truth that God is working, even when I cannot see everything He is doing.

When we spend our time worrying about everything going on around us, we often miss what God is doing within us. We become so focused on the pain, the report, the delay, the setback, or the fear that we fail to notice His presence, His provision, His comfort, and His grace.

Fear has a way of making false evidence appear real. It takes a possibility and makes it feel like a certainty. It takes a symptom and turns it into a sentence. It takes one bad moment and tries to convince us that the rest of our lives will look the same.

But fear is not greater than God.

When we allow fear to overshadow the power of God, we begin to live as though the unlimited God is somehow limited by our circumstances. But He is not. His power has not changed. His promises have not expired. His faithfulness has not weakened. His healing has not run out. His Word still stands.

The more we begin to trust God and praise Him for what He is doing, the more we begin to see Him make a way where there seems to be no way. The more we praise the King of kings while our world feels like it is crashing in around us, the more our faith rises above what we see. Praise shifts our focus. Praise reminds our soul who is still on the throne. Praise turns our attention away from the storm and back to the Savior.

I am learning that praise is not just something we offer after the miracle. Praise is something we offer while we are still waiting for it.

I praise Him when I feel strong.

I praise Him when I feel weak.

I praise Him when the pain is lower.

I praise Him when the pain is loud.

I praise Him when the report is good.

I praise Him when I still have questions.

Because God is worthy before the answer comes, and He will still be worthy after it does.

I pray that as you read these words, you would begin to look at the areas in your own life where you need to trust God more. Where have you been carrying tomorrow’s trouble today? Where has fear been speaking louder than faith? Where have you allowed anxiety to take the place of prayer? Where do you need to stop rehearsing the worst-case scenario and start remembering the faithfulness of God?

I also pray you would look for the areas where you need to praise God more. Not because everything is perfect, but because He is still good. Not because everything makes sense, but because He is still faithful. Not because the pain is gone, but because His presence is near.

When the light of God shines upon us, there is no limit to what He can accomplish in us and through us.

So today, I choose not to worry about tomorrow.

Today, I choose to trust.

Today, I choose to praise.

Today, I choose to believe that the God who has carried me through every painful chapter before will carry me through this one too.

My healing is real.

God is true to His Word.

And the same Lord who began this work in me will be faithful to complete it.

To Him be the glory now and forever. Amen.