There was a gravel pit about a mile and a half from my house, just out of town, when I was growing up. My buddies and I loved to ride our bikes out there with our fishing poles and try to catch blue-gills. As you know, blue-gills love worms. The biggest obstacle was finding worms. My grandpa had a horse barn with a pile of manure behind. Worms love manure piles. We wouldn’t have to dig very deep to harvest a dozen or so worms, drop them in a tin can and head of town.

We loved fishing, the fish loved the worms, and the worms loved the manure pile. It was a perfect world.

Today the gravel pit is still there, although the barn and manure pile are gone. My friends are still around, but I never see them. And I don’t ride a bike much anymore, either. Our world isn’t perfect anymore, since we don’t have time to dig worms or go fishing. Responsibility has taken our time. But I still embrace the memories of the good old days when someone else had to worry about me.

The Bible says that God knows the number of hairs on my head and cares more about me than a simple sparrow. Why should we worry when we can cast our cares upon Him?