In God we trust.
But what does that mean? I thought I knew, but I’m learning trust at a whole new level these days.
For my first 21 years, I trusted my parents. They made all of the important decisions, met my needs and were ultimately responsible to God for my upbringing. For the next 24.5 years, I trusted my husband. He protected me, defended me, provided for me and sought my highest good. We made decisions together, but ultimately, I trusted him to do what was right, knowing that he would answer to God for how he led his family.
For the first time in my life, the buck stops with me, and I don’t like it. I liked having a person to depend on. It was comforting to have someone to process things with, knowing they wanted what was best for me. It was often a relief to not have to make the hard decisions. Living under the umbrella of someone else’s protection was safe.
But God isn’t calling me to “safe” any more. He’s called me out into the torrent and is telling me to learn how to follow Him. Through the storm. Through the hard. Without a safety net. And it’s scary.
Recently, this widow journey has felt like I’m being forced to walk along the edge of a cliff with no light and no guide. At any point in time, my next step could take me over the edge into the dark abyss below. I want to stay frozen with fear so I don’t fall, but I also don’t want to stay here. So I shuffle along, hesitantly doing the next thing, hoping my foot will land on solid ground.
But there’s a small problem with that mindset. I’m still not fully trusting. Because I’ve been seeking to find my footing in what I know instead of stepping out into the unknown.
There’s a scene in Aladdin where he is standing with hand extended, asking Jasmine to step off the edge of her balcony onto a floating carpet. “Do you trust me?” he asks.
There’s a scene in the Bible where Jesus is standing in the middle of the stormy sea, calling Peter out upon the water. With outstretched arm, He’s asking Peter to trust Him. Peter could have stayed put, like the other disciples, but he stepped out of the boat.
So today, I’m asking myself if staying on the edge of my cliff should be my goal, after all. Sure, it’s safer. This solid ground is all I’ve ever known. No one would fault me for staying put. In fact, many others would probably make the same choice. But what will I sacrifice if I resist the call to trust Him and step off the edge?
Jasmine would never have experienced that breathtaking flight on the magic carpet. Peter would have missed being touched by the rescuing hands of Jesus. And I may miss God’s beautiful plan for the next chapter of my life.
The problem is, I don’t really want things to change, because I trust what I know more than I trust God with my unknown future. The dictionary says trust is “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.” I’m afraid my firm belief has been in the familiarity of what I know instead of in the One asking me to step off the cliff. I have been so afraid of falling that I’ve ignored the extended hand in front of me, as I’ve shuffled along on the edge of life as I know it. It was easier to trust when I had a safety net. But trust only becomes faith when it moves me to action. Like stepping off the edge of a cliff…
There’s a song my students sing that says,
You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep my faith will stand…
Easy to sing. Hard to take that first step. There’s a whole new world waiting on the other side, and that’s where I will find Him. But it’s my choice. Stepping out in faith is never easy; but there is joy beyond measure to be had in the ride!
How about you? You may be standing on the edge of all you have ever known and terrified by the thought of the next step. I get it! I’ve been shuffling along on that dark ledge for almost 9 months. You may not be able to see your hand in front of your face, much less the step in front of you. The fear can either paralyze you, or it can propel you into a deeper trust than you’ve ever known. It’s your choice.
Be assured, there is a Savior standing in the unknown, with outstretched hand, asking, “Do you trust me?”
July 5, 2022