Tag: Trust God

Holding Me Up

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

My 3 year old daughter ducked into the large cardboard box sitting in our living room.

We had transformed it into a simple house by setting it on its side to use the top flaps as doors. Additionally, on one side, we cut a small window, leaving a flap that could open and close. On the other side, we added a small side door.

She pushed the window flap open and peeked out.

My 1 year old son saw her peeking and laughed. He pointed at her as he toddled over.

Crouching, he entered the box.

My daughter vacated through the side door.

Circling to the other side, she peeked in the window making them both laugh.

My son gripped the bottom of the window and began leaning against the side of the box as their game of peek-a-boo continued.

Sitting nearby, I noticed his leaning was beginning to tip the whole box.

Reaching out, I held tight to the opposite side of the box as he leaned even further.

I felt the pull of the box. It would have tipped had I not been stabilizing it.

My son, however, was blissfully unaware of my rescue as he laughed and peeked out the window at my daughter again.

I glanced over at my husband who sat nearby and had observed the whole thing, saying, “He has no idea someone is holding him up.”

What about me? Do I know that Someone is holding me up? Do I acknowledge and thank Him? Or do I assume it is my own efforts holding me up?

Throughout the Bible, we see God taking care of His people again and again. Sometimes it is blatantly obvious to the people involved, sometimes it is not.

Perhaps Psalm 23 is one of the most beautiful passages depicting this.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for His name’s sake.

 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff,

they comfort me.

 

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

(Psalm 23 ESV)

God is taking care of me in the same way a shepherd cares for their sheep.

I need not worry. God is holding me up.

Does that mean my life will be trouble-free and easy? Not at all.

The following evening, as my son was again peeking out the window. He leaned against the side in the same fashion as the story above.

This time, however, I was not holding onto the box.

Over it tipped, with my 1 year old inside.

He cried as I helped him crawl out, though I suspect his tears were more from the scare than from pain.

Later, I observed him peeking out the window a third time. This time he felt the box begin to shift and pulled back from leaning on it.

He glanced at me for reassurance.

I applauded his discernment and quick learning. He has not tipped it over again.

Often in life, when hardships happen, they are not a specific result of my actions. Sometimes, however, they are a direct consequence of something I have done (like for my 1 year old in the story).

Sometimes God protects me from the consequences of my actions. Sometimes He does not.

Regardless of the cause, when I face trials, God wants to be at work in me. He wants me to be learning and growing.

If, like my 1 year old, the trial is a result of my own foolishness, God wants me to learn better wisdom and discernment.

If the trouble is not because of something I have done, God still wants to be working in me.

That is why James says:

“Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:2-4 CSB)

Am I facing great difficulties today? May I press into Jesus knowing that as I do so, He will be working to transform me from the inside out. He is holding me up.

Am I in a peaceful and seemingly easy season of life right now? May I be intentional to pursue Jesus, growing in knowledge of the truth and in healthy Biblical habits, not forgetting to thank and praise Him. He is holding me up.

Have you memorized Psalm 23? If not, I urge you to do so. Here’s a great song, by Zac Fitzsimmons, to help you memorize the chapter. You can watch it below or find it on Spotify here.

 

Rest so Peaceful

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I cradled my recently turned 1-year-old in my arms. He snuggled in, sleepy and content to be held.

Looking into his big blue eyes, I couldn’t help but marvel at his willingness to rest in trust.

You see, this little boy has recently learned to walk. Now he walks everywhere. He loves his new freedom.

He walks and walks, stops to play, then walks some more. I jokingly say, “He has no time to sit still. He’s got to move!”

He is also beginning to understand words and communicates by pointing, nodding, and saying, “more, more.”

I’ve started referring to him as a toddler rather than a baby.

Yet in that moment, as I sang him a lullaby, he seemed so much like a baby. His simple peaceful trust that I would take care of him was worth marveling at.

As I took a step toward his crib, his eyes shifted to the ceiling. He watched calmly as I carried him past the light and a door frame.

He let me lower him onto his back in the crib.

There was no fear, no fight for control in his gaze as he studied my face.

As I headed back downstairs, I found myself imagining my response if someone were to carry me. 

My stomach clenched at the thought of feeling so utterly out-of-control when being carried on my back, unable to look anywhere but at the ceiling. The anxiety that would grab at me if I couldn’t control where I was going or even adjust for better balance would be near overwhelming.

My little one doesn’t always rest so peacefully. He is currently in a phase of clinging to mommy. Only a handful of people have gained enough trust for him to rest in their arms.

Even in his babylike trust, who is holding him is the key.

What about me? Do I have that babylike trust in God my Father? Or have I become so accustomed to independence and having a sense of control that I refuse to rest in His arms?

In this area, I need to go backwards in development, back to that childlike dependence on my Heavenly Father.

This is not easy.

When I feel out of control, I want to fight for all I am worth to get that control back.

Yet I am never truly in control in the first place regardless of how I might feel. I cannot control the weather, how other people think and act, or many aspects of my health.

God is in control.

Not only is He in control now, but He sees the big picture. He knows what the future holds and He is interested in more than just my temporary pleasure for today.

Along with that, knowing God is loving and good is reason enough for me to seek to rest in His arms.

At all times, but especially when I feel out of control and helpless, may I lean into His loving arms and rest peacefully there.

Isaiah reminds me that God carries His children. Having just discussed how people worshipping false gods in that day literally carried their gods, Isaiah stated:

 

“Listen to Me, … you whom I have upheld since your birth,

    and have carried since you were born.

Even to your old age and gray hairs

    I am He, I am He who will sustain you.

I have made you and I will carry you;

    I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

Isaiah 46:3-4 NIV

 

Experiencing peaceful rest in God’s arms is not necessarily a lack of action, but a heart condition.

On the outside, sometimes resting in His arms will be sitting and waiting. Sometimes it will be active and hard work.

Regardless, may I learn to rest my heart in His arms, trusting that He is good, loving, and in control.

 

As I close, I encourage you to take a moment to listen to this well-loved hymn: Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.

 

Not The Garbage!

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I placed the loaf of bread in the fridge and returned to the table to clear the rest of the breakfast items. Happy chatter reached my ears from where my older child played in the other room.

I glanced at my baby as he crawled around the kitchen floor exploring the toys left out for that very purpose.

Opening the dishwasher, I quickly put the dishes and cutlery in.

My baby made a beeline for the dishwasher.

“You’re getting faster,” I said, “but I’m all done with the dishwasher already.”

He fussed when I closed it before he could climb in.

Crouching beside him, I drove a car back and forth. “Vroom… Vroom…”

It only took a moment before he was reaching for the car.

“Yes, you can have the car. I need to finish clearing the table.” Fetching the dishcloth, I returned to the table and began wiping it.

I heard a thump.

Looking over, I observed my baby standing against the under-the-sink cupboard, pulling at its handle.

Pulling the door open, he peeked inside. Intrigued, he pulled it open further then dropped to his hands and knees to investigate.

I stepped around the table to wipe the far side.

He reached for the dustpan and broom I kept in the cupboard.

I spoke lightly, “You can look at that, just don’t suck on it please.”

His interest didn’t last long. Setting the dustpan aside, he looked up at the garbage can. He reached for the fresh bag my husband had put in the can.

“No, that’s not for you,” I spoke from the opposite side of the table.

My baby couldn’t quite reach the bag from where he sat. He shifted closer and reached again.

Disregarding the dishcloth, I hurried to his side.

“No,” I stated firmly, pulling his hand away from the garbage.

He looked at me, then reached for the bag again.

“No,” I said again.

He reached for it another time.

“No. That’s the garbage. That’s not for you. Here, you can hold the dustpan.” I tapped the dustpan loudly.

Yet again he reached for the garbage.

This time, I pulled him away from the garbage and closed the cupboard. “No. The garbage is not for you. Find something else to play with.”

He fussed.

I rolled a ball towards him, but he barely noticed. He was too busy heading back for the cupboard and pulling himself up against it.

I held the cupboard shut as he tugged on the handles.

His fussing turned to crying.

I scooped him up.

“Silly boy. Garbage is not good for you. Come, let’s find something better for you.” I carried him to the living room in search of a more engaging toy.

It was only later, after more run-ins of a similar nature, that I noticed the allegory hidden in these moments.

I love my son. I want what is best for him. When he wants to play with garbage, I say “no.”

The same is true of God. Our Heavenly Father is a loving God. He loves us so much that when we want to play with garbage, He says “no.”

As the parent of a very busy baby, I am considering putting locks on that cupboard to prevent him from opening it.

God, however, gives us the freedom to choose to comply with His “no.”

In my day-to-day life, what does this mean?

First off, in His Word, God has given me many laws and guidelines to live by. I’m sure you can name several of them.

“Do not murder.

Do not commit adultery.

Do not steal.” (Deuteronomy 5:17-19 CSB)

I could go on.

Why does God give me these laws? Because He knows they will keep me away from garbage.

Garbage is not good for me.

Beyond that, God sometimes replies to my prayer requests regarding specific situations or desires with “no.”

So often it is hard to understand why He says no when it is something I long for.

In the story I shared, my baby had absolutely no comprehension that the garbage can was not good for him. He got frustrated when I pulled him away from it. He cried.

Sometimes I must simply trust that God sees the bigger picture. He knows what the future holds. He knows what is best.

Yet it can be so hard to trust when the “no” makes no sense to me. I may feel frustrated, disappointed, and discouraged. I may cry. I need to take these feelings straight to God as the Psalmists so often did.

As I take these emotions to God, He will help me trust Him when He says:

“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts,

and your ways are not My ways.’

This is the Lord’s declaration.

‘For as heaven is higher than earth,

so My ways are higher than your ways,

and My thoughts than your thoughts.'” (Isaiah 55:8-9 CSB)

Today, may I abide by the rules and guidelines God has laid out in His Word. Beyond that, when God says, “no,” may I trust that He knows what is best, even when I don’t understand.

Water Pipes

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

I jerked awake when an emergency alert sounded from my phone.

Dazed, I reached for my phone as I glanced at the clock. Not yet 7 am.

What could require an emergency alert so early in the morning?

I squinted at my phone: “Critical water supply alert.”

Fully awake by now, I sat up to read the details.

A major water pipe break was affecting my city’s ability to provide water. The alert instructed everyone to cut back water use wherever possible.

Definitely an unexpected shock in a city where an abundance of clean drinking water is taken for granted. Our rivers never run dry. Yet suddenly our tap water was about to run out.

Over the following days, the city provided more specific instructions and information.

Outdoor water use was forbidden. Fines were issued. Voluntary indoor water use reduction was urged.

Don’t shower as often. Only run the dishwasher or laundry machine when it’s full. Use “grey water” to water plants. Don’t flush your toilet unless absolutely necessary.

We joined countless neighbours in turning the tap off while rubbing soap on our hands, and trying to use as little water as possible to boil pasta.

We were shaken by the realization that clean drinking water in our taps is a luxury, not guaranteed.

It became a common sight to see various bowls or plastic containers poised under drain spouts to catch rainwater for backyard gardens.

After several weeks, the pipe was repaired and life returned to normal, yet a question remained for me to ponder.

“What pipes do I rely on?”

Where do I find the umph to keep going? What do I turn to for happiness?

Pipes such as good health, friends, family, financial savings, a good job, or a pet, will eventually break, sometimes without warning.

What will I do then?

I am so thankful that I know of a pipe that will never break. It is the pipe that carries Living Water.

May Jesus be my source and my umph to keep going. He will never leave me nor forsake me. (Hebrews 13:5b-6)

Here’s a song that reminds me to ground my life in Jesus.

Build My Life by House Fires

Traveling Through Train Tunnels

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

Some people have a wonderfully simple way of wording things. Today’s allegory is inspired by a quote attributed to Corrie ten Boom. To bring the quote to life, I have woven a story. At the end, I will share the quote which I’m sure will be as inspirational to you as it has been to me.

Standing on the station platform, I studied the incoming train. I glanced at the ticket in my hand. Yes, this was the train I needed to get to the Bible school.

Once the departing passengers cleared, I climbed aboard and located an empty seat in the half-full train car.

Parking my suitcase by my feet, I pulled my backpack onto my lap.

A few minutes later, the train gave a lurch and proceeded on its way.

I glanced around me. No English anywhere. All the ads and station names were illegible to me. Each snippet of conversation that reached me from fellow passengers was as good as jibberish. I understood none of it.

Rather than let that worry me, I leaned back, letting my gaze roam the city streets we hurried through. They too were entirely unfamiliar. I had no way of telling whether this train was heading the right direction. Yet, the number on the outside of the train matched that on my ticket. Surely it would take me there.

I knew it would be more than an hour until I arrived, so I allowed my mind to wander as I admired the rich greens of the countryside we’d entered.

I knew a little about my destination. Around 100 students would be there, none of whom I’d met before. Classes would be in English. Our rooms and food were provided. It was near a lake.

Still, a million unknowns crowded into my mind.

I pushed the worries away. I would trust God. He’d pointed me this direction. I would follow. He would give me what I needed.

The steady rhythm of the track made my head begin to nod. I hadn’t slept well during the hours spent on the plane.

I pulled my backpack closer as my eyelids drooped.

I sat bolt upright, aware that I’d been sleeping. Something was different.

It took me a moment to realise the train had been thrown into darkness.

Looking out the window, all I could see was black.

I felt the train turn, as it wound through the darkness. Were we going in the right direction?

I bit my lip. I really did not want to get lost in this foreign country. Was I on the wrong train? Should I pull the emergency brake and jump off here?

No, I was certain this was the train I was meant to be on.

I had no idea what direction my stop was, but the train driver knew.

As I watched the beginnings of light returning to the outside world, I leaned back in my seat. I would have to trust the driver. He knew what he was doing.

So, what was that quote I mentioned at the beginning of the post? You may have heard it before.

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the Driver.” – Corrie ten Boom

What does this allegory mean? Picture God as the train driver or engineer.

When I became a Christian, God invited me onto a train. He set a new life before me – different from the life I was living before.

Sometimes as I travel on the train that God is driving, everything seems wonderful and happy. At other times, the train goes through a tunnel and life gets hard… very hard.

When life gets hard do I turn my back on God and jump off the train He has put me on? Or do I trust that He is still in control and knows what He is doing?

For Corrie ten Boom, a very dark tunnel came in the form of the Nazi Ravensbrück concentration camp. She watched her sister, Betsy, die and faced brutal treatment day in and day out. Yet Corrie did not abandon her faith in God. She trusted the Driver, and He carried her through.

When a dark tunnel comes in my life, may I follow Corrie ten Boom’s example. May I trust that God is still in control. He will see me through.

 

If you want to read Corrie ten Boom’s story, I highly recommend her book The Hiding Place.