My wanderings you have counted; my tears are stored in your flask.
In God I trust without fear.
Psalms 56:9,12
Trust without fear? Me? When have I ever trusted anything or anyone without fear? What do I trust? While I might trust The Father….He is not in this tangible world. He isn’t going to manifest in the flesh and slay the dragon. Nope. Upon whom can I trust? And why would I trust them? Empirically, the balance of evidence makes the strong case for not trusting people. People suck. Often, the people that historical archetypes proclaim as your protectors and guardians are the very people from whom you must be the most defensive: a father, a husband. Too often, over and over again, they hurt us. Because you keep thinking that THIS time, it will be different. THIS TIME, you’re safe.
Then you end up standing like a fool, holding your guts in your hands, impotent and at the mercy of others. Defenseless. You should know better. Why are you surprised?
I am no shrinking violet. While I dislike conflict, I don’t run in fear. Just the opposite. I plant my feet, drop my shoulder and prepare for the blows. I brace myself and I push forward. I do not quit. The problem with that pattern is I get fracking tired. Truly and utterly paralyzed. Not out of fear but from exhaustion. How many times must I suit back up, walk back out, square off…again…..and take the hits? And for what? I am no Joan of Arc. There is no glorious martyrdom in this life. I am not built for sainthood. I know I am but a speck on this planet and my strife is infinitely irrelevant in the arc of time. But from my vantage point….it is my whole world. And some days….like this past week. It sucked. Big time.
And I flailed. More than adrift. I felt like I was sinking and I was afraid. And I didn’t have Jesus in the boat, coaching me to be calm. Nope. Fear is not a common foe for me. I deal with fear. I look under the bed. I turn on the lights. I check the closets. I don’t let fear stalk me. But this week, Fear took up residence. And I quaked. And cried. And capitulated. And refused. I did not ask “why me”. I don’t say, “Not fair”. I know there is no equity or fairness in the tallies of Life. My lot is mine. My box of burdens are mine to muster. But, ding dang, this week, I wanted to pitch my box over the cliff’s edge and fling myself to the ground and petulantly refuse to move one single nanometer until Fear went away and Life was “all better”.
But Life is Life. Life has not changed. My ability to absorb the flow of Life was altered. I stumbled. I fell. But now, I must find the keel. I must right the yaw. Restore the balance. And plant myself firmly. Because He gave me the ability to slay my own dragons. So, let’s begin…again.
On what do you base this trust of yours?
2Kings 18:19