This year God is teaching me to trust Him even when it feels like I'm walking through a cornfield with a tornado on my heels. It's easy to say we trust God when our air conditioner works fine, there's food in the pantry and nobody is barfing. But how about when we make five trips to the emergency room in one weekend, or we suffer undiagnosed chest pain for five weeks or our child has surgery and lives on a wound-vac for a month and a half? How about when we're bombarded from every side and see no end in sight? Then do we trust Him?
And what does that sort of trust look like?
For my birthday this past July a good friend made me a beautiful journal. Across the top is my name, and across the bottom is the word TRUST. And through all of the above incidents (yes, they all really happened in my family, and then some) I made a decision to trust God in the situation. Not some happy-go-lucky I'm sure it will all work out song and dance, but taking one trembling, feeble step after another, tears streaming down my face, saying "God, this hurts, this stinks, and I do not understand, but I am trusting You to work it out for my good. I trust that You are in control. I trust that you will take what the enemy meant for my harm, and use it for my good."
And then I get up and do it all over again the next day, even when I don't feel like it.
This week my daughter and I are up in Michigan on yet another movie adventure. She's cast as a foreground extra in a film directed by David Schwimmer (remember Ross from the sitcom "Friends"?). She's got big dreams and a calling, so we are walking through this open door. Of course, the title of the movie is Trust. Can you hear the hammer banging?