Trust

“You will know the right thing to do when the time is right to do it.”

I think God doles out trust one moment at a time, because as much as I try to generate my own, grace must kiss my trembling lips before they utter, “I believe.”

And aren’t we all kind of like blind Bartimaeus,*

groping our way through dark nights of the soul?

Seeing the way through our dilemmas doesn’t generate trust. Trust nestles in our hearts before the wings of the dawn highlight a clear path.

Even though we cannot generate our own trust, we can whisper the words of another who doubted so long ago: “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

And then those gentle, all too familiar words return to our mind, like the exhortation Philip received when he struggled with trust: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time?”

I don’t know about you, but I feel ashamed when I don’t trust. Gosh, I’ve had a lifetime of experiences to convince me just how trustworthy God is. Yet, when confusing circumstances come along, I become like a frightened child who’s scared and thinks she’s lost her way in a dark forest.

In those moments, I don’t need the Lord to roar like a mighty Aslan, but merely to whisper, “This is the way, walk in it.”

Yet most of the time this doesn’t happen, so I must trust while I tarry in those dark places of doubt. I must wait for grace to appear. Such is the mystery of faith and the challenge of trust.