Why We Worry About Money
"Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" — Matthew 6:27
These wildflowers brighten entire hillsides without storing, planning, or striving. Jesus pointed to the beauty of flowers as evidence of the Father's care, inviting us to trust Him with tomorrow.
I was talking with my friend Joe recently, and he proudly showed me his basement pantry, which looked like he was preparing to survive a minor apocalypse. At that point, I decided not to ask too many questions and simply admire his commitment. But then Joe admitted something that really stayed with me: “No matter how much I store, I still worry about running out.”
He spends so much time rotating canned goods—constantly checking expiration dates and trying to use things up before they go bad—that he feels like he’s managing inventory for a small grocery store. This has led to some remarkably creative and questionable dinners. “I’m making chicken tonight,” he told me once. “With peaches.” I paused. “Interesting.” “And black beans.” I paused longer. “And cream-style corn.” At that point, I just smiled and admired his dedication to reducing food waste, but I could hear the stress underneath it all.
I think many of us understand that exact feeling. The details of our lives might look a little different, but the underlying whisper of worry is entirely familiar. Will there be enough? Enough money, enough savings, enough income, and enough stability to handle whatever tomorrow throws at us?
Jesus knew this heavy question lived deep inside the human heart, which is why He told us plainly:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear” Matthew 6:25.
I’ve always found that verse to be both deeply comforting and incredibly challenging. It’s comforting because it proves Jesus completely understands our human anxieties, but it’s challenging because most of us have spent a literal lifetime practicing our worry. If worrying were an Olympic sport, a few of us would be standing on a podium with a shelf full of gold medals.
The strange thing about worry is that it loves to disguise itself as responsibility. It tricks us into spending our peace and energy on things we can’t actually fix. Jesus asked a brilliantly simple question about this: “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Matthew 6:27. The answer, obviously, is a resounding no. Worry feels productive because our minds are racing, but busy and productive are definitely not the same thing. Rocking chairs have been teaching us this lesson for generations—you can move back and forth all day long with maximum effort and still end up exactly where you started.
Worry keeps making the same empty promise: if you just stress about this scenario long enough, you’ll finally feel secure. I’ve tested that theory more times than I care to admit, and it simply doesn’t work. Much of life remains entirely outside our control. We can make wise decisions, prepare responsibly, and be excellent stewards of what God gives us, but none of us can guarantee tomorrow. Only God sees the entire road ahead.
The world tells us peace comes from having a perfect backup plan, but “enough” has a habit of moving farther away every time we think we’ve caught it. Jesus offers us something far better than guaranteed certainty—He offers us trust. One asks us to control tomorrow, while the other asks us to simply walk with God today. Our peace was never supposed to come from knowing everything; it comes from knowing Him. We don’t have to carry the weight of the future by ourselves, because the Father is already there.
What we hold holds us. And enough begins with trust.
So if your pantry currently contains three cans of peaches, four cans of beans, and a mysterious unlabeled jar from a sale you no longer remember… I’m not judging. But I am deeply curious what creative dinner masterpiece you’re making tonight.
