That's Great Advice. But How Do I Do That?

My 20-year-old is devastated with her life right now.  Due to circumstances beyond her control, she’s had to temporarily drop out of school and she misses college life.  She’s also worried about relationships.  One relationship in particular. 

I give her some wonderful advice straight from the bible. "Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear.  Is not life more than food and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"   Matt 6:25-27 NIV 

Unfortunately, she asks me the obvious question.  “Okay. But how am I supposed to do that?”

“Aww crud.  Why did you have to ruin the moment and ask me such a difficult question when I had a pat little answer all ready for you?”  I ruminate.

Sometimes mother’s don’t have enough of whatever it takes to look smarter than we really are.  I can usually manage it, but this time I just stared down for a minute thinking to myself, “When I’m really upset, I can’t stop worrying. It seems easy when I am not worried. When I actually know that I’m not in control.  But it is so darn difficult when I think I should have everything under control.”

How much sense does that make? Such great logic from the mind of a former attorney (me). Okay, so I’m giving her good advice,  but I have absolutely no idea how to execute the plan when there really is something that bothers me.”  My mind continues with a free flow of ideas but I have no pat little answers this time.

What is a mother to do?  I simply look at her and say, “Actually honey, I have no idea.  It’s a whole lot easier for me to tell you what to do than to actually do it. But I know it’s good advice because God said it. Does that help?”

“Yea.  But how am I supposed to do that?” she repeats as if I have said nothing to appease her worries.

I pause again and my then 16-year-old, whose sitting in the next room yells, “Mom, I think she’s saying, ‘The concept is grasped.  It’s the execution that is a little elusive.’”

Thanks honey.