By Ruth Yong Wang Theen*
There seems to be no end to the things we can worry about.
I recently completed my Master’s degree in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) and am now waiting for graduation. It should be a season of celebration. Instead, I find myself asking questions about the future. Will I find a teaching position? Will there be opportunities to keep writing? After facing my share of rejections and disappointments, these questions sometimes feel heavier than I would like to admit.
Perhaps you carry your own version of this. Maybe it is your family, your health, your finances, or simply the uncertainty of tomorrow.
Worry is a deeply human response to an uncertain future. Yet in the middle of it, God gently invites us to lift our eyes to Him.
Why do we worry so much about tomorrow?
Most of my worries come from wanting to know what lies ahead. I want reassurance that things will work out, that the doors I hope for will eventually open. Some of these worries are significant, like my career and future. Others are surprisingly small, like whether to wash my hair now or later, or what comes next after reaching a destination. My mind is always racing ahead, trying to prepare for every possibility.
And then I’m reminded of this verse in Matthew 6:34 that says, “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
This is not Jesus telling us tomorrow’s concerns don’t matter. It is Him telling us we were never meant to carry tomorrow’s burdens today.
What does Jesus actually say about our needs?
One passage that brings me real comfort is Matthew 6, where Jesus tells His followers not to worry about what they will eat, drink, or wear.
“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:33)
This verse comforts and challenges me in equal measure. It comforts me because God already knows what I need before I ask. It challenges me because my natural instinct is to chase answers first and peace second. Jesus asks for the reverse order: seek Him first, and trust Him with the rest.
I don’t know what opportunities wait for me after graduation, or what doors God may open in the months ahead. But I’m learning that my future was never ultimately in my own hands to begin with. As Jeremiah 29:11 puts it:“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’”
That promise means something because of who is making it. The same God who did not spare His own Son for us is trustworthy with everything else He has planned for our lives (Romans 8:32). The path ahead may be uncertain to me, but it was never uncertain to Him.
What happens when prayer becomes rushed?
Ironically, I’ve noticed that worry tends to grow whenever my prayer life gets hurried. There are seasons when I’m so busy that I spend far less time with the Lord than I meant to. I still pray, but the prayers come out quick and clipped. I speak and move on, without really pausing to rest in His presence.
Maybe you know that feeling too. Scripture calls us back gently,“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” (Philippians 4:6)
What I appreciate about this verse is that it doesn’t just tell us to stop worrying. It tells us what to do instead: bring the worry to God directly. Prayer may not remove our uncertainties right away, but it reliably changes how we carry them. Laying our concerns before the Lord reminds us we were never meant to hold them alone.
Could worry actually be an invitation?
I’m slowly learning to let worry become a signal, a reminder to return to God’s promises rather than a problem to solve on my own. When my thoughts start spiralling, verses like these pull me back to solid ground -“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7) and “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” (Isaiah 26:3)
These promises don’t make every worry vanish overnight. I still wonder about the future, and I still pray for open doors and clarity for this next season. But Scripture and prayer keep moving me from worry toward surrender, and from fear toward trust. I don’t know exactly what tomorrow holds. I know who holds tomorrow.
Perhaps peace begins with surrender
As I wait for God’s direction in this next season, I’m learning that peace was never found in having every answer. It’s found in placing our unanswered questions into the hands of a faithful God.
Maybe that’s what trust actually looks like: bringing our worries to the Lord again and again, and believing that in His time, He will lead us exactly where we need to be.
*Ruth Yong has never seen the world with her eyes, having been blind since a premature birth. She writes for Asian Beacon, trusting God to help her see it in other ways.
