You’ve been here for a day and I’ve held my word on my tongue for weeks. I hold it there on the tip of my tongue because I don’t really know what to do with it. I’m still learning what it even means. Far too often I say it with fear, dread, sarcasm, question, wonder, and hesitation.
Now, let’s be frank. Trust terrifies me. Trust weighs on my heart because of the stories I carry.
I’m someone with so many misplaced walls and a lack of walls it’s a wonder I don’t get lost in the maze of my own heart. I make choices letting others navigate the yard to know me. Deflecting questions here, sharing half-truths there, full-blown emotional baggage over there. A mismatched tapestry that intertwines in a way that trusts too much, trusts too little, and doesn’t trust at all.
Trust means risking my heart while reminding myself that I am responsible for guarding it. Trust shows me that I am in need of grace and can choose to show grace when trust is broken. Trust says I am vulnerable to being hurt. Trust is a gift. Trust opens up doors to new levels of intimacy, relationship, and being known. Trust means seeing God as who He is regardless of what my circumstances or experiences say.
Trust forces me to let go of my plans and my ways in exchange for His plans and His ways. Trust means saying to God and others…
“And if I perish, I perish” –Esther 4:16
“The God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” –Daniel 3:18
“If destruction’s what I need then I’ll receive it Lord from thee.” –Hurricane by Jimmy Needham
So, 2011. I’ve woven joy into the fabric of my tear-stained heart. Now it’s time for trust.