Remedial Trust
23 11 10 13:50 Filed in: Reflections | My Life
It’s an eight mile drive between our house and the airport. In ideal circumstances, it’s about a fifteen minute drive. Yesterday was not ideal. Suzanne had gone to pick up friends who were flying in for Thanksgiving. The snow was supposed to be over before their plane arrived. That was the plan, but the One who controls the weather apparently had a different plan. About the time that their plane arrived, the main highway leading from the airport became a dangerous, down-hill ice slick, and the state patrol shut it down. The trip home, involving a circuitous detour that those who know Seattle’s topography would understand, took over six hours and involved dodging countless abandoned vehicles. I spent most of those six hours doing the nervous father routine and worrying about things I could not control.
Which was strange, given that the Sunday sermon we had both heard focused on Jesus’ gentle reminder, do not worry. She remembered and reminded me: “Remember Dad, ‘do not worry.’” I didn’t remember, and my answer had only honesty on its side: “I think it’s too late for that.” I was already well into worry.
Eventually two words on the refrigerator caught my eye. They were placed there three years ago (we don’t edit our refrigerator door very often) during Joan’s irreversible decline. We had prayed for God’s will and ours; ours was healing. God’s consistent reply was the two words I had put on the refrigerator door: Trust Me. My response - I can trust God for healing - was significantly narrower than God’s invitation: Trust Me. Seeing the words again stopped me in my tracks and sent me back to Sunday’s text.
Do not worry. Trust me. Do not be afraid. There were no limits other than the ones my untrust had imposed. There are two problems with untrust. First, it obscures the character and unchanging love of God. And second, it is easily learned - and difficult to unlearn. I’m pretty sure that Suzanne, Katy, and Bob didn’t need a six hour Seattle ice adventure. But God being God didn’t waste it; He gave me a six-hour course in remedial trust.
I wish I hadn’t needed it.
Which was strange, given that the Sunday sermon we had both heard focused on Jesus’ gentle reminder, do not worry. She remembered and reminded me: “Remember Dad, ‘do not worry.’” I didn’t remember, and my answer had only honesty on its side: “I think it’s too late for that.” I was already well into worry.
Eventually two words on the refrigerator caught my eye. They were placed there three years ago (we don’t edit our refrigerator door very often) during Joan’s irreversible decline. We had prayed for God’s will and ours; ours was healing. God’s consistent reply was the two words I had put on the refrigerator door: Trust Me. My response - I can trust God for healing - was significantly narrower than God’s invitation: Trust Me. Seeing the words again stopped me in my tracks and sent me back to Sunday’s text.
Do not worry. Trust me. Do not be afraid. There were no limits other than the ones my untrust had imposed. There are two problems with untrust. First, it obscures the character and unchanging love of God. And second, it is easily learned - and difficult to unlearn. I’m pretty sure that Suzanne, Katy, and Bob didn’t need a six hour Seattle ice adventure. But God being God didn’t waste it; He gave me a six-hour course in remedial trust.
I wish I hadn’t needed it.
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