“Start planning on college. And money for bail.”

Kevin laughed and made quips. He loved the word quip because it sounded a bit short and a bit cheap and that was exactly what his wisecracks were. They managed to keep everyone at ease and smiling instead of wondering when he was going to implode.

He thought of one of the many classic lines from Jerry Maguire and realized he could have easily said it to everyone around him. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do what you all think I’m gonna do, which is, you know, FLIP OUT!”

So even though outwardly he was doing fine, he still sat with a thousand thoughts attacking him.

Soon enough they would be going to another doctor’s visit.

Soon enough they would know a little more about Baby B.

In the meantime, as Jenny said time and time again, all they could do was continue to pray.

“Continuing to pray” means that I’ve already been praying.

It was maybe—no, not maybe but probably—a good thing to pray now that he was at church again. Ironically, as if Jenny had called the church to tell them he was coming, the pastor spoke on Matthew 6:25–34. The message was “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” And while the text was supposed to be comforting and uplifting, Kevin found it distressing.

Yes, when placed on a scale of eternity, were these issues something to worry about? No.

But fear seemed to know his name and know it well. It had breakfast with him and texted him throughout the day and liked to ride home with him in the evening. It hung around even when he tried his best to get rid of it and when he camouflaged it with witty quips.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry for itself,” the pastor said.

Yeah, and so will I.

He wondered what Jenny would have thought of the comment. She would have agreed and probably nudged him with a See what I keep telling you? She was so steady and stable. Even a hormonal Jenny with twins was still steady and stable. He was the hormonal one. He was the one who needed to breathe deeply in order to stop hyperventilating.

Maybe I’m going to need to be placed on bed rest.

“Who is your master?” the pastor asked everyone.

He said things like “Trust is born out of surrender.”

So I haven’t completely surrendered yet, have I?

The sermon outline in the bulletin highlighted key points:

God is faithful.

Kevin could accept that.

We are valuable.

He could accept that too.

God is our provider.

Ditto on that.

So then why was it so hard to let go and let God?

That’s nice on a bumper sticker but doesn’t really work too well when you’re worrying about paying bills and the growth of a baby when you can’t do diddly about either.

He could hear his father lecturing that this was a learning experience. Everything was a learning experience according to Dad.