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Clovis G. Chappell writes about worry.

I read somewhere of an aviator who was making a flight around the world.After he had been gone for some two hours from his landing field, he heard a noise in his plane which he recognized as the gnawing of a rat .He realized that while his plane was grounded the rat had entered it and was now getting in his work. Not knowing what bit of his delicate machine those sharp teeth might be cutting, he was filled with fear. At first, he did not know what to do. It was two hours back to the landing field and more than two hours to the next one ahead.

Then he remembered that the rat is a rodent. It is not made for the heights; it is made to live on the ground and under the ground. Therefore, the pilot began to climb. He went up a thousand feet, then another thousand, and still another thousand, until he was twenty thousand feet in the air. Then the gnawing ceased. When more than two hours later he came down in safety at the next landing field, there was a dead rat in the pit of the plane.

Worry is a rodent. It cannot live “in the secret place of the most High. “It cannot breathe in an atmosphere made vital by prayer. Therefore n everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made unto God.”

“Drop thy still dews of quietness,

Till all our strivings cease.

Take from our souls the strain and stress,

And let our ordered lives confess

The beauty of thy peace.”

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