I broke my fast Tuesday.

It had nothing to do with Lent. I broke my fast from news channels.

Up until now, all I’d been watching was the Governor’s daily press conference. So I’d know what was happening here. What I needed to do. How I could help. And that was it.

For the big picture? Pray and leave it to God.

But Tuesday, I decided to watch one of the news channels. To make sure that I wasn’t missing something important.

After an hour or so, I switched to another news channel. One with a completely opposite perspective from the first one. To make sure that I had the big picture.

Two hours of the news firehose. I learned all kinds of stuff. What we’re doing wrong. Who to blame.

But mostly, I learned that I should be worrying. A lot.

That there were all kinds of problems, from the immediate crisis to the “what-ifs” of the future. Big stuff, national stuff, international stuff.

All of it very important. All of it demanding my attention.

To be blunt, I fell for it. I tried to pay attention to all of it. Even to make sense of it. I left none of it to God.

All I did was succeed in getting myself more and more wound up about it.

Most of it? Stuff I can’t really do anything about, if I’m honest. But I could worry about it. So I did.

Without really meaning to, I took the big picture back from God.

You can imagine how much I didn’t get done on Wednesday.

Worrying about stuff I can’t do anything about? It’s a very effective way of not making a difference with any of the stuff that I can do something about. Not to mention a very subtle way of letting my fears get between me and God.

The solution? Think small.

Think about the things I can do something about. And leave the rest to God.

So today, I’m back to my news fast. More importantly, I’m thinking small.

Making a difference with the stuff that I can do something about.

Praying about all of it. And leaving the big stuff to God.

Something tells me that today I’m going to do a lot more good.

Growing up, one of our family friends was a Franciscan sister. I know, kind of odd for someone who grew up Protestant. But she was a friend of my parents.

She was one of those people you couldn’t help but be drawn to. Kind. Patient. Radiating a certain quiet joy.

With a seemingly endless supply of truly awful dad jokes.

As I got older, I discovered that her seemingly effortless grace wasn’t the byproduct of having an effortless life.

She was a nurse. What she had seen in the hospital where she worked inspired her to start the first hospice in her city.

Seeing the lack of resources for parents who had lost a child led her to start a support group at the hospital she worked at. One that she grew into a ministry that reached out to grieving parents across the county and beyond.

All the while dealing with the health issues that would eventually lead to her death.

On my way into the Catholic Church, I asked her how she did it.

How – with all of her health issues, with ministries that were so focused on some of life’s hardest moments – she kept that quiet joy.

Her answer was simple. We see it at the end of today’s Gospel.

She sought God’s will. In everything.

Not just the big stuff, like major life decisions. But literally in everything.

From what she was going to do on Tuesday. To what she should say to someone she was talking to.

And the quiet joy? It’s the unavoidable consequence of trusting God.

Not just trusting God enough to seek His will. But trusting God enough to actually do it.

Like most of us, every New Year’s, I make resolutions. About things I want to change in myself and in my life.

About this time each year, I like to take a moment to appreciate how impressively better my life has become. All because of my resolutions. 

Not really. 

I knew what to do. And I had good intentions. But (like most people) I never got around to actually doing anything.

Because I didn't really mean it. 

Sunday's second reading is all about this problem. We've heard the message. We know how much God loves us.

So if it really means anything, we'll actually do something with it. 

If we don't, James is pretty clear. We're just fooling ourselves. And whatever good intentions we might have, they're just more New Year's resolutions. 

More on this Thursday.