Trust is such a slippery word. I think that trust is
supposed to mean that I can put my dependence or confidence upon someone or
something. I think. At least that is what Mr. Webster tells me. I am not so
sure my experience matches with Mr. Webster’s definition. Trust is a whole lot
more elusive, particularly when it comes to the experience of brokenness. In
what am I supposed to put my confidence when life is shattered? Upon whom and
upon what am I supposed to depend when what once was whole has broken?
Trust implies that something solid exists, something upon
which I can lean in my time of weakness. Trust suggests that someone will come
through for me, that someone has my best interests in mind. You see, this is
exactly where the problem lies. In my brokenness I have none of these. The very
reason I am broken is because what was solid gave way, and those whom I thought
were for me turned against me. Sure, trust is easy when life is whole, but
doubt seems a whole lot more plausible as I sift among the pieces of what was
once whole.
In my doubt I am afraid. I am afraid of what is, of what is
to come. Doubt whispers that nothing is solid and no one is constant. Doubt
holds my hand, warning me against moving forward for nothing is dependable. I
cannot cross the street of life. I might get run over by the next speeding car
which fails to yield for this wounded pedestrian in the crosswalk. It simply is
not safe to venture out; rather, it is safer to hunker down. Yes, staying put,
sitting among the pieces of what was is much safer, for in sitting with the
pieces I do not have to experience any more brokenness. But, then again, I don’t get to experience anything other than
my brokenness.
Trust is difficult because among the pieces there is doubt,
but doubt is not getting me anywhere. Doubt keeps my experience the same, and
to be honest, I hate this experience. Why would I stay in it? Trust offers a
way forward. If I trust that something solid does exist, that someone really
does have my best interests at heart, I can stand up from among my shattered
pieces. With trust, I can step forward once more into the crosswalk of life with
the hope I will not be stepping into the crosshairs. With trust I rise out of
my brokenness. With trust, I move forward, not with fullness but emptiness:
empty hands held outward, trembling hands of want and need, empty hands that
are able once more to be filled.
A fellow traveler,
Blake
What’s my next step?
We encourage you to
consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your
family.
Memorize Psalm 23: Psalm 23
is a beautiful psalm that reminds us of God’s trustworthy character and actions
on our behalf. This week, consider leading your child to memorize this psalm.
You might use bedtime prayers as a time to work on memorizing this psalm one
verse at a time. As your child memorizes each verse, talk about how you have
experienced the truth of that verse in your own life.
We encourage you to
consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.
Meditate on Psalm 23: Life
is difficult but God is with us in the midst of difficult and painful
situations. This week, consider memorizing and meditating on Psalm 23, a psalm
that beautifully states that we have a trustworthy God with us in the midst of
difficult circumstances. Consider making this psalm or portions of this psalm a
part of your daily routine. You might meditate on a phrase as you drive to work
by mulling it over in your heart, or you might pray this psalm at regular
points through the day. Whatever approach you take, allow this psalm to direct
you to the truth of who God is and where he is in the midst of suffering.
:)
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