Trust God Always

The psalmist speaks rather matter-of-factly when he says, “Trust God at all times, you people. Pour out your hearts in his presence. God is our refuge” (Psalm 62:8). He doesn’t say we should consider trusting God, or weigh the value of it. He doesn’t tell us to give it a lot of thought. He just says do it. Trust God at all times. We may complain that’s not always easy, but he still says just do it, because he’s convinced God is near to those who trust him.

Today I want to share a poem from Susan W. N. Ruach. It’s called A New Way of Struggling.

To struggle used to be

To grab with both hands

and shake

and twist

and turn

and push

and shove and not give in

But wrest an answer from it all

As Jacob did a blessing.

But there is another way

To struggle with an issue, a question –

Simply to jump

off

into the abyss

and find ourselves

floating

falling

tumbling

being led

slowly and gently

but surely

to the answers God has for us –

to watch the answers unfold

before our eyes and still

to be a part of the unfolding.

But, oh! the trust

necessary for this new way!

Not to be always reaching out

For the old hand-holds.

Pardon

In George MacDonald’s Diary of an Old Soul he says, Up, up the hill, to the whiter than snow-shine, Help me to climb, and dwell in pardon’s light. I think this is where I will live today, in the warmth of God’s forgiveness. No one is worthy of such a privilege, but it is afforded to anyone who cares to have it. And the psalmist says, The one whose wrongdoing is forgiven, whose sin is covered over, is truly happy!

Yes, I’m going to lounge in pardon’s light and enjoy the life that’s mine through faith in Jesus Christ!

Not Their Life

It is good to acknowledge that each of us has our own life to live. If I choose to live my life in a way that dissatisfies you, I'm sorry, but you'll have to admit, it is my life to live, not yours. And what suits me may not fit you at all. I might enjoy sleeping outdoors on air mattresses and in canvas tents, while you prefer relaxing in plush suites at the Hampton Inn. I might take a late night stroll through a dimly lit village, while you would never dream of taking such a risk. Each of us is different, which is why each of us is so interesting. I guess Karle Wilson Baker captured the crux of the issue in a poem she wrote called, Creeds (Macmillan 1938).

Friend, you are grieved that I should go

Unhoused, unsheltered, gaunt and free,
My cloak for armor – for my tent
The roadside tree;

And I – I know not how you bear
A roof betwixt you and the blue,
Brother, the creed would stifle me
That shelters you.

Yet, that same light that floods at dawn
Your cloistered room, your cryptic stair,
Wakes me too – sleeping by the hedge –
To morning prayer!

So enjoy who you are, who you were meant to be, and don't worry if some don't get it. It's not their life to live.