One of those flights

It was a long day at the conference, schmoozing with donors, teaching a crowd of bored people only there for the training credits, arguing technology with people smarter than me, and chatting over drinks (that’s the hardest part).  Then the drive through big-city rush hour to the cunningly hidden rental facility.  At 8:30 pm we board the plane, perchance to nap. 

Doom. 

Peering back over the seat in front of me was a 3 year old cherub.  She burbled, gurgled, sang and charmed the flight staff with her big eyes.  But I knew.  Before the end of the flight there would be tears.  The questions were: when, and how loud?

And so it came to pass, 1 hour in and 1 hour to go - a complete meltdown.  She used every vocal trick in her repertoire: abundant volume, choosing the pitch that rattles your eardrums, stuffing her face between seats so they worked as amplifiers.  And never, ever, stop.  Even to breathe.  It was impressive.

Her mother worked hard, bribing, feeding, hugging, shushing, bouncing, singing, and promising the world.  But all the cherub wanted was one thing: to get off the plane.  Until that happened, she would vent her fury, and that she did well.  No amount of comforting, reassurance, or distracting would change things. 

I had to cover my ears because it literally hurt.  All I wanted was to go back to whining at God about my life.

Oh.

How much of our prayer life is like the cherub; venting our feelings and sulking until God does what we want.  And we don’t listen when He says “Wait” or “OK, I’ve got this.”  We keep whining and nagging when what he wants us to do is be still and trust that He is in control.

Yes, there are times when we have to wrestle in prayer, but when He says “Shush,” it is time to stop yelling and work on those faith muscles.  Prayer is not nagging God to change His mind, because he won’t.  Prayer is letting Him make us think like him.  Therein is holiness, and joy.

 

Habbakuk 3: 17 Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. 19 God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places. (ESV)

 

Trust me...

When a political candidate says “trust me,” you know they are lying.  When a salesman says it, he just lost the sale.  When I say “trust me I am a doctor,” my friends and family laugh.

It seems then, that saying “trust me” is a great way to ensure that people don’t.   But that is not always true.

When a loving father says “trust me” to his child, he actually means it.  The first time he says “Jump into the pool with me – I will catch you,” the child refuses, justifiably afraid.  With some reassurance they eventually take the leap.  Water goes up the nose, hair sticks to the face, sinking, flailing, dying, terror; then the father’s arms wrap around and lifts them clear, wipes the face and they laugh.  He earned trust, and the child took the first step toward independence and safety in water.  The second jump is less stressful, the third is fun, and thereafter the child wants to keep going long after Dad is tired. 

How do we take it when God says “trust me”?

It is easy to trust Him with eternal life – it’s a little abstract and we don’t really have a good grip of it anyway.  It is far harder to trust Him with everyday crises like health, children and job security.  Why is it so hard?  Largely because not everything in life goes my way, so I am a little skeptical.

God, as the infinite, almighty, sovereign is clearly able to keep his promises.  But which ones?  The Bible is full of verses that believers extract and hang onto, almost as talismans.  But more careful reading of the whole scripture indicates that some of these passages are specifically speaking to a given time, people and place making it unwise to take them personally.

However, God is good, meaning he will not cause bad things to happen to you.  But sometimes his idea of “good” differs from ours.  Like the father described above, He knows that something like jumping into water the first time is distinctly unpleasant – but it is actually a good thing.

So what!  What does He care?  He creates a universe that is unbelievably large, complex and intricate by speaking a few words.  He scrapes His fingernail across the desert and makes the Grand Canyon.  He drives every particle running around inside every molecule, and these are so small we have to build trillion dollar machines in mountains to kinda sorta image them.  And then I am just one insignificant person among 7 billion on the planet.  How big is a billion anyway?  That is the part I struggle with.

Yet scripture repeatedly emphasizes that indeed, God personally loves each individual.

So when He says to me “trust me,” He means it.  And I am best served by saying “yes Lord,” even when it seems goofy and especially when I can’t control things.  Trust is a distinctly personal activity, and the amazing thing is that God, despite being infinite, is also the most intimate person around.

There are some interesting examples of trust in the bible – Abraham told to sacrifice the son of promise, Peter singing in jail, Paul writing his happiest letter – also in jail.  All of whom end up as heroes of the faith because of their trusting obedience, and only because of it.  It all seems to hang on:

·       Do what you can in conformity with scriptural principals
·       Work on the one-on-one relationship with God
·       Let go the stuff you can’t control – and trust Him

Therein is way less panic and stress.  Like the pool analogy, when He rescues you from drowning the first time, it’s a whole lot easier the second…

My theme song this week?  “Trust me – I am God.”

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
-6- In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.