Just Trust Me…

Three weeks ago my ideas were different. My plans unaltered.
I was organized. Everything was under control. It was all laid out perfectly (or so I thought).

But then things started happening.
And all of a sudden, within one week, I found a bunch of my plans flipped on their heads.

Dead end.

And I felt myself straining a bit at the reins. Because my personality likes to be on top of things, be organized, have things under control.

I hear a still, small Voice.
Just trust Me…

But, of course! Of course all things are really in the hands of His Majesty.
Yet sometimes, despite all the evidence from the past, I forget.
It's unfortunate. And it's unnecessary.

And so for a short while after each thing arose, I questioned. I wrestled. I surrendered.
But within me echoed and reechoed those simple words.
Just trust Me…

And so I trusted Him to see where I couldn't. Because obviously I didn't understand.
And He did. He always does…
I'm the slow one. The blind one.

And now looking back only a couple weeks later, most everything has already been resolved.

This week my A&P teacher overrode the system to get me into her class for fall semester.
The microbiology teacher said I can probably get into her class and lab too.

And all that after I wasn't able to register for the classes I wanted.

The Phoenix convention center was able to accommodate my date change. 

My other GYC-related meeting was rescheduled despite conflicts at both ends.

The family of one of my volunteers is going to be in the area exactly during our site visit.
And all that after my GYC site check and meeting plans had been unexpectedly interrupted.

And God's voice echoes again.
Just trust Me.

Poured Out [The Filling]

There she stands, her frail body framed by splintered doorposts, her face covered with salty tears. Her body shakes in silent sobs. Life seems to be giving her nothing but sorrow.

Her husband is dead. Her house furnishings have been taken by greedy creditors.
And besides that, now they want her two beloved sons.*

Yet the prophet asks a simple question. Gives simple instructions.

She returns to her home, shuts her door. In her hands she holds the cruse of oil.
It is her last link to hope. And she dares to hope.
She dares to pour. And pour out freely.

And in that one action, a miracle is wrought. A new future is born.

--

Somehow I see my heart in that cruse of oil.
Just enough to start a stream. But not near enough to keep it going.

Yet when I dare to pour, dare to pour out my life freely, a miracle is wrought.
A new future is born. New life springs forth.

In the pouring out, I am filled.

* 2 Kings 4:1-7

Stay or Surrender

{Jeremiah 21}

Death or life. Polar opposites. Obvious choice, right…?

You would think so.

“I set before you the way of life, and the way of death.”*

Surrender and you will live. Stay and you will die.

Why then do so many die?

Because they choose to remain within the familiar and comfortable. 

The city, though it be their undug grave, is all they’ve ever known… 

It holds a certain amount of security. 

To surrender to an unknown army, and unknown future is downright frightening. 

It is directly disregarding everything that has been ingrained in them since birth.

And so they stay…

Yet only in surrender is there life.

Then why do we shy away from surrender, from risking all we’ve ever known, from leaving the familiar and embracing uncertainty with the eye of faith?

Why are we content to remain within the comfort of our walls, forgetting that to stay means death?

Why do we cling to the chains which hold us fast when the gift of freedom is dangling above our heads?

Because in the familiar is a sense of security.

But that’s just the devil’s lie to keep you in bondage until you rest in the grave.

Risk yourself by pushing open the city walls and surrendering.

For only in surrender is there life…

*{Jeremiah 21:8}

Invested in a Promise

Spectators thought he was crazy.
Crowds of jeering people mocked him on every side.
Nobody believed a man would invest the entirety of his possessions in a promise.

The thought of such an immense body of water, called a flood, seemed ludicrous. Rain was an abstraction.
Yet Noah never doubted the promise of God.

Faith beyond the conceivable.

. . .

Would you stake your complete livelihood on a promise?
Be willing to yield everything in the trust of its fulfillment?
Endure ridicule, rejection and contempt when there is no tangible evidence of that promise?

I hope so.

Because we have a promise too…
The promise of eternity.

And though nations may scorn our faith in the intangible, we must trust the promise.
Regardless of appearances we must exercise faith beyond the conceivable.

. . .

Noah made an entire investment. He ventured everything in his possession for that promise.
Are we willing to do the same?