Even while I sit alone, angst tied up in my stomach; I know I’m not alone. Fear is a bitter friend – teasing he cares while quietly devising to destroy. But Love says trust. Trust even when you don’t see. Trust that I am working all things together for good.
Trusting is hard muscle work. It requires effort that goes beyond getting up and moving. It is more effort than lifting the weights, holding the plank, or running the mile. Trust is a quiet strength built over time. It is intangible, but hearty when reached. It escapes the tyranny of uncertainty and revels in the hope of the unknown. It builds endurance, perseverance, and character. It is not easy
Two steps forward one step back. Why this? Why so long? Applications sent, letters followed up, degrees attained, experience built … is it all for nothing? The clock ticks forward while my life slips backward. Do you ever feel this way?
Yet, even here in this place, trust quietly nudges: smile even in the dark – there is light ahead. But I see none. How can this situation turn around? Will it? What if it never does?
Then I’m reminded: look back. Did I leave you alone then? Remember you felt alone then too. You didn’t see anyway out. Did that pass? Do you hold that time with the sorrow and loss you did then? Can you see the good? Did you grow?
At 47, He’s growing me still. My teens are growing into adulthood and with naivety they think they know so much. They have it figured out. Never will they ever do things the way we did. Never will they ever… and I remember my younger self. Filled with hope, expectation, and knowledge. I would succeed because I was determined. Never would I ever stay home and parent my kids. Never would I ever be nearing 50 without success in my rear view mirror. Never would I ever be nearly 50 still filling out time sheets and getting paid by the hour with no benefits to boot. This? After work, a Masters degree, experience, grasping knowledge and applying it, raising kids… this? Me? My life?
God’s ways are not my ways. Yet I try really hard to shove him into my way. If He did things the way I wanted, it would be so much easier! Things would have worked out quicker. I’m certain of it!
But where I see my immediate benefit, I lack the ability to see the benefit that my path may have on another; a person I may never know. Anne Lamott has no clue who I am, but her words cause tears and trembling at the gut punch of accuracy she speaks. Beth Moore has no idea I exist, and yet she is a model to me of learning, growing, and fully learning to believe God. Lysa Terkeurst speaks directly to my insecurities and hurts, yet she has never heard my name. But God knows my name. And God uses these women to touch me. I bet they touch you too.
That is God’s way: it is something so far grander than our way. It is too large for us to get. We simply have to trust. Trust is the muscle I’m working on building. It is in trust that I release, relax, smile, and go … even when it’s hard; even when it’s not going the way I want. Trust is my hope. Hold on … it’s not over yet. I’m still unfinished.