January 25, 2010

Do not be anxious for tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34

I saw a photo of Mt. Rushmore the other day, and it got me thinking about our visit there several years ago.

There were many highlights of our trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota, but just seeing the immense figures of four presidents carved in stone, and walking up the path behind them was spectacular—and no, you don’t see their backsides, as some cartoons have depicted! We also enjoyed the on-going work on the Crazy Horse memorial in the area, and drove through nearby Custer State Park for up close and personal encounters with bison (they have HUGE heads and slobber a lot).

One caveat: don’t eat the mint ice cream at Mt. Rushmore. It’s a ghastly, off-putting  green color and tastes as fake as it looks, and it made Joe sick. Just mentioning the experience causes him to blanch. Maybe they’ve improved the flavor and appearance or even discontinued it by now, but consider this fair warning…

Anyway, when we got back to Mom’s house in Illinois, I suggested we rent North By Northwest, the terrific Hitchcock movie whose final climactic scene (spoiler alerts ahead!) is memorably set at Mt. Rushmore. As we settled in to watch, Mom mentioned that a friend of hers had said to look carefully at the cafeteria scene where Eva Marie Saint shoots Cary Grant. Apparently, off to the side yet still within the camera’s range, one of the extras, a young boy, screws up his face in anticipation of the prop gun’s loud bang, just before the actual shooting takes place.

Sure enough, there he was. Unless you’re specifically looking for it, you’ll miss that quick grimace, because your attention is usually where it should be, on the gunfight.

In many ways, I’m like that boy. Some people obsess about the past, but my specialty is fretting about the future. I spend way too much time worrying about what’s coming up. I somehow think that this advance “preparation” will enable me to deal better with the situation.

But I always discover the opposite is true. I can get myself so worked up that I’m a wreck by the time the event arrives. And my anxiety over the future often means I miss out on daily pleasures along the way.

The boy in the film wasn’t mature enough to enjoy the experience of being part of a remarkable movie with a stellar cast and renowned director. All he focused on was the noise.

Guess I still have some maturing of my own to do.

Lord, help me filter out the noise and the cares of tomorrow and the days, weeks and months after that, and just let me rest in the fact that the future comes one day at a time—and You hold it in Your hand, just as You do today.