My daughter has just started high school. She loves to remind me that soon she will be driving. Soon she will be going to college. Soon she will be moving out, sleeping in when she wants, cleaning when she wants (when will that ever be?) and eating whatever she wants with whomever she wants! All in all, soon she will be living the carefree adult life that every episode of New Girl promises!

We’ve all been there, right? Eagerly looking ahead to the total freedom and anticipation that we imagine our future holds!

I’m not sure when I went from eagerly awaiting my future to constantly catastrophizing it. Ok, it’s not as constant as it was. Thanks to time, therapy, 12-step wisdom and Brené Brown, it’s getting better. Back in my advertising days this ability earned me the title “Worst Case Scenario Planner” from one of my co-workers. Give me a situation, any situation and I would tell you all the ways we could and should prepare for everything to go to hell and a handbasket. Did I often apply this style of prophesying to situations in my personal life? Ha! Like you wouldn’t believe, my friend.

We’ve all been there, too, right? 

Catastrophizing is something familiar to many of us. And, in terms of religion and faith, future catastrophes keep us enraptured. Whether you’ve read “Left Behind” series (I have not), or watched HBO’s “The Leftovers” (I have) you might assume either or both were inspired by this Sunday’s gospel. Jesus’ reminder that not only did God flood the earth but we can await a future scenario of being randomly plucked out of existence. This whole chapter is rather terrifying and ends, of course, with weeping and gnashing of teeth. Talk about worst case scenario planning!

So, why not talk about it? Why not talk about we face it in the church, predicting our own demise? Why not share a time when you focused more on your worst-case scenario then trusting God was working some purpose out? Maybe, like me, you have been surprised to discover that God has much more light-filled plans in store. Even if you had to slog through some darkness first.

Paul reminds us of the light that surrounds us always, it’s near even when it seems far off. Jesus says, “stay awake” which simply means pay attention. We all know that Matthew overdoes the harsh rhetoric for that prophetic eschatological context and effect.

Touch on that if you must. But remember, people get what it is to feel anxious and worried and stressed about their future. The plans they think they can control and the plans they know they can’t. Well preached eschatology can be shared with pastoral, plain-spoken storytelling. “I was glad when they said to me, let us go to the house of the Lord.” says our psalmist. The people in the pews have a lot on their plate. What story can you share that will uplift, encourage and help them see the light all around them?

An incredible gift of the faith-full life is remembering the long view. Remembering that our story is connected to a never-ending story. That our Advent season points to light, not darkness. Advent culminates in birth, not death. I’ll bet that you, like me, in your own stories of catastrophizing have been surprised by survival, maybe even triumph.

There is always light, to be seen. Maybe this Sunday, you need to radiate that light, you need to equip your people with that armor so that they can let go of their worst-case scenarios, and trust through you that God’s power working in us, can do infinitely more than we could ever ask or imagine. Our worst-case scenarios will never be the final word. We are not leftovers and we will never be left behind. We look ahead to God with us, always.