A matter of trust

I sat down to write today, and nothing came to mind.

Well, that’s not true. A million things came to mind at once, but it just felt like I couldn’t write about any of them.

Not yet anyway.

There are worries, a decision that just doesn’t sit well with me over which I have no power to change or push back. My nephew Eli getting used to having a baby brother. Change. Fears. Workload. Rest. Friends facing difficulty and deep grief. Family worries. A tired heart.

I got a text from a friend last night to pray for his mom who was in the ER with seizures and no one knew what was happening. I replied that I’d be praying and went upstairs to my bedroom, to the quiet place where I like to pray in times like this. (When I say I’ll pray for someone, I try to do it right then.) I knelt down by the window and started to pray—for my friend and his mom, the doctors,  for his dad who isn’t a believer. Then that prayer morphed into something else as I prayed for all the other things that are weighing heavy on me these days. The worries. The fears. The million things that come to mind when I try to write and that I just can’t put into words.

I found myself simply saying to God, “I know You are in control. I know You have a plan. And I am trying to trust You in it, even though right now, I can’t see it, and I don’t understand.”

There are so many things I don’t understand right now. I don’t know how God is going to work in any of them and, truth be told, sometimes can’t see or believe that He is or is going to.

But I’m choosing with every moment to trust.

 “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world.” —John 16:33