Brave Enough to Trust

This post was originally published on The Road to Brave

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus — just to take Him at His word
Just to rest upon His promise — just to know, “Thus saith the Lord.” 
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus — oh, for grace to trust Him more.
~ Louisa Stead

“Well, I thought I trusted You.” 

It’s an embarrassing confession, to say the least, when you’re talking to the God Who created you. Who knows every cell of your body and every hint of your thoughts. Who has proven Himself over and over again and yet doesn’t smite you down when, for the umpteenth time, you trip over your latest discomfort and find yourself struggling. A-gain. 

All growing up, I never thought of myself as someone with a desire to control anything. I knew of control freaks and I was not one of them, hallelujah for that. 

All growing up, I thought of myself as someone who really trusted God. Through the ups and downs my family had experienced, I’d seen God show up again and again — never once failing us. Then when I moved out on my own, I saw again the faithfulness of my Savior in providing for me, in growing me, in leading me – never once failing me. 

Ah, yes, I was a person who totally trusted God. 

Then, when it came time to lean into a new sort of human relationship and step into engagement and marriage and their entirely new context — a context that touched every corner of my life, mind, and heart — I realized abruptly that the concept of trusting God so radically with all of me was not coming as naturally as I assumed it would. 

Funny old world. 

I realized abruptly that I did, in fact, want control, and a lot of it — not control over others, but control over outcomes. Control that somehow would protect me from experiencing anything unpleasant, anything difficult, anything painful. Control that would guarantee no failures, no mistakes, no regret. 

One night, in a somewhat unexpected but definitely God-determined situation, I found myself driving in a car with a young woman I respected a lot but didn’t know all that well. As she’d been recently married herself, I thought perhaps she’d have some light to shed on my recently-put-to-words struggle to trust God and lean in. I still remember her thoughtful pause and then even more thoughtful words. 

“Wow, it sounds like God is using this to teach you a lot about Himself.” 

She had that right, and I needed to hear it. I was learning to lean anew on the strength and goodness of my Savior Himself, on how much He loves me, and to be honest, I was struggling to listen to Him and not to the fears at my doorstep.

When the foundation for trust is there, when wisdom means leaning into what God has in front of us, when we know that taking a step of faith is the right thing to do — for a person or for our God — then even in the presence of ungrounded fear and anxiety, an act of trust may be one of the bravest, most courageous decisions we can make. 

Not sometimes, but all the time. 

Releasing Control 
As I am learning, there are often different things we want to control. Sometimes we want to control others, but much of the time we want to control our environments. Or we want to control the process of doing something or getting somewhere. Honestly, I think the root is probably similar for all of them — we want to get the outcome we want. 

It is hard to let go of the notion of making things happen a certain way and choose to leave it in God’s hands instead. 

When you’re not naturally a brave person, it can be really tough to peel back our clenched, aching fingers and hold up open palms and say, Yes, God, I’ll follow You into that unknown place. What a gift that He has grace on us, drawing us out and after Him. In my own experience, it seems that releasing control means acceptance — acceptance that our outcomes are in God’s hands, that we couldn’t ever control things to begin with, that we’re safest in the center of God’s will. 

Ask any older Christian, and I’m pretty sure this “releasing control” is a lifelong pursuit. Singleness. Marriage. Unemployment. Jobs. Moving. Staying. Family. Outcomes I can’t control and shouldn’t try. There will always be new decisions, new twists and turns, new scenarios, new environments.

But one God, the same yesterday and today and forever, holding us fast in a perfect, good love. 

In the Middle
I am not a puzzle person. 

A puzzling person, probably. But not a puzzle person. At least, I wasn’t up until a few weeks ago, when my husband (who did grow up putting puzzles togethers) suggested that we tackle an abstract-art 1500-piece box (which happens to be the only puzzle we own, #newlywedlife). 

Much to my surprise, I’ve actually had fun (go figure). Right now, we’re still stuck in the middle, with a half-way-only-partially-completed puzzle taking up space in our living room. In our case, with one swift glance at the box, we can see what that messy, unconstructed middle is going to turn into. 

Life isn’t like that, though. We don’t have a box we can glance at to see what beautiful picture all our currently-disorganized-and-rather-chaotic lives are being formed into. Trust seems to be the thing that allows us to stay in the middle, wondering which piece is going where and which direction that piece is even supposed to go, without having that final picture but with a heart that can still rest and be at peace. 

I wish the “rest and peace” part came more naturally. Maybe that’s where our daily drawing-near to Christ makes such a difference. Repeatedly giving every anxiety over to Him and responding with gratitude and thanksgiving. Thinking on what is good and beautiful and true. Reminding ourselves of the truth that He sees the final picture, that He’s moving pieces even if we don’t see them in our corner of the board yet, and that the final picture is good. 

Trusting the Goodness of God
At an event a few weeks ago, one of the speakers said something to the effect that living deliberately begins with believing that God is deliberate and that God is good. 

God is deliberate, and God is good. 

Man, I love it when I get slapped upside the head (as my Oklahoma grandpa would say) with something I really need to hear, but sometimes it leaves my ears ringing for a while. I’ve been thinking about that. 

Last year, I wondered — could I really trust God with something as life-changing as marriage? I thought I did trust Him — why was I now afraid? I thought I was a good Christian girl who did the right thing, like always trusting God. 

Was He good? I said I believed it. Did I? 

Do I? 

Psalm 77 says, “Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High. I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember Your wonders of old. I will ponder all Your work, and meditate on Your mighty deeds.” 

Last year, God in His goodness helped me move through uncertainty and into bold acts of trust — ones like saying, “I do,” and “Yes, I’ll move,” and “God, You’ll have to provide.” I didn’t always feel brave, but His strength is more than our feelings. His goodness is more than we can fathom. 

And this autumn, with the speaker’s challenge still ringing in my ears, I’m asking myself once more: am I building habits and rhythms of trust? Releasing control? Do I act on the truth that (1) my God is deliberate, and (2) my God is good? 

By God’s grace, I am trying, and may I do so more and more. I’m learning that God often uses life — and our opportunities to release control and trust — to teach us a lot about Himself. 

About His goodness. His faithfulness. His strength. His grace. His provision. His majesty. 

I’m thankful He keeps leading us deeper and deeper into trust, peeling back layer after layer of our attempts to cling to lesser things. When we know that taking a step of faith is the right thing to do, then even in the presence of ungrounded fear and anxiety, may we make that brave, courageous decision. 

This week, may we be brave enough to trust.