“Father, thank you for another day of manna. Another day of you being enough. Another day of trust. Holy Spirit, help me trust even more. I trust, but help my distrust.”
That’s how I started my abiding time this morning, my daily practice of praying, journaling, and listening. I didn’t always do that. In fact, I thought people who did that were a little religious and weird, if I’m honest. Until I realized a year and a half ago that abiding is essential to living. Truly, I was killing myself as an alcoholic.
Anyway, this morning I was feeling a little overwhelmed. As I turn my focus from writing my book to now figuring out the best way to get the message out come next October, I’ve had a lot of thoughts. Good ideas, for sure. But it’s overwhelming. See, let me give you a peek behind the curtain. Gone are the days where you can just “write” a book. These days, you also have to be a marketer and a “content creator.”
We writers now have to bow down to algorithms. And newsflash: we weren’t created to worship algorithms. And if I’m honest, there’s part of me that feels like I’m living in Babylon sometimes and being told I have to bow down or be thrown in the furnace.
I’m getting closer and closer to having the courage to run into the fire.
And that’s what I want to talk to you about today. Not algorithms, but courage. The courage to trust.
See, in our culture, it takes courage to trust in the one thing that can actually satisfy, fulfill, and provide for us. This is where the Sunday school answer fits: that’s Jesus.
Yeah, I know that sounds trite. But it’s not. It’s actually the hardest and most complex thing you will ever do. And it’s crazy, if you really think about it. We Christians go around telling everyone to trust in something you can’t physically see. We brag about talking to someone who doesn’t talk back, at least in the traditional sense. We talk about devotion to a being that we call “good” despite all the bad we experience.
Anyone who tells you faith isn’t nuts is, well, nuts. It’s crazy!
And yet…
It’s the most real thing in the world.
But it takes courage to trust, to believe all of that. When I actually exercise that trust, I’m the most peaceful human being on the planet. I’m kind, gentle, present. I’m joyful. But it can be hard to trust sometimes. OK, a lot of times.
And that’s why my prayer this morning is for “supernatural courage.” Supernatural trust. Because trust in our Creator doesn’t come naturally as a result of living in a sinful, fractured, and broken world. We want to trust in everything else but God. And even though that leaves us unfulfilled and searching, we keep doing it.
We need supernatural trust given to us. “I trust, but help my distrust,” which is my take on the biblical phrase, “I believe; help my unbelief.”
That’s my desire today. As I battle the worry that no one will want to read what I’ve just spent seven months of my life writing. The worry that I’ve poured my soul out in obedience to the call to be radically vulnerable and it will fall flat. The fear that I won’t be able to do what needs to be done to market it and “make it go viral.”
And God is tapping me on the shoulder saying, “trust me. I will do what needs to be done through whatever needs to be done. It will be what I want it to be.”
So I ask for trust. Trust in those words. Trust in that plan. Trust to be patient and satisfied. And dang, that takes a lot more courage than I could have ever imagined.
Le me ask you, then: Do you have the courage to trust? If not, join me in asking for it today.
I am right there with you Jon trust is my weak spot. Our past can be difficult to overcome when it comes to trusting our Heavenly Father. I continue to work on this.