Are You Worried About the Economy?

I go in cycles trying to keep up on the news. Typically, I do a pretty poor job of it -- gravitating only to stories that intrigue me. However, it is hard to miss that the economy is suffering. If the stretch of my paycheck didn't clue me in, the headlines would.

Last night at BN, I was cashiering. I caught the gist of one of the papers. Though the person who spent $350 on books belies the struggle, the problem is of global proportions. One article talked about how Americans' new interest in saving is impacting nations like China that depend so heavily on exporting of goods to this country.

Tonight, I caught a blip on CBS news about newspapers. Apparently, some major holders of papers are filing for bankruptcy. They had already been struggling because of the wealth of free information now available at our fingertips. The sale of ads have decreased and we just don't buy the paper anymore.

I haven't a clue where the phrase comes from, but I believe it is in regards to money. I wonder how long (or if we are already there) until buyers, lenders, or whomever looks at us and says about the American dollar "It's not worth the paper it's printed on."

Between shoppers last night (long waits on a Sunday night), I got to thinking about God's economy. I can imagine Satan looking at our sin ravaged and decaying world and shaking his head, turning to God, and making a very good case that we aren't "worth the paper we're printed on." And in some respects, he might be right. How many times did I sin today? How many cross words or hurtful thoughts?

But God wouldn't buy into it. In spite of the grim economy of my soul at times, I shouldn't buy into it either. God listened to the plea of the hymn writer Robert Robinson when in Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing he wrote:

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here's my heart, O take and seal it
Seal it for thy courts above

Jesus takes my ravaged heart from Satan's hand as Satan points out every flaw. Jesus turns it over in his nail scarred hands and points triumphantly at the seal that marks it for His courts above. He states, "Not worth the paper it's written on but so dear to me that I find it worth my very blood."

Tonight I shall strive not to give over to my worries and frets, because Jesus is in charge of the economy of my soul. It's backed by His grace and love.