Christ rips away my safety net. Every time I knit one together and secure it beneath me in an effort to feel safe, he comes in with one mighty swoop and tears it apart. As an incredibly fearful person you can imagine how frustrating this is. I find myself looking heavenward and asking why in the world he is taking away my sense of security. Why would he want me to not have a plan B? Recently as part of preparation for the World Race, I have been searching for an answer to this very question. What is it that God is trying to teach me through all this? I found my answer. It was blatant and honest. During this process of questions and seeking answers for past pain I wrote the following:
Her hand slipped in mine as we walked toward the edge. I knew where we were going, but I planned to talk her out of it. As we drew closer I opened my mouth to tell her she didn’t have to do this, but just as words began to form in my throat the ground beneath her shifted, her hand let go of mine, and she fell down down into the void that waited beyond the cliff.
I watched in terror as she slipped past jagged rocks and open jaws. Farther and farther she fell, while I stood there helplessly watching. “God, what have I done? ” I screamed, “Father, Abba, save her… God, what have I done.” With tears streaming down my face my knees found the ground, all I wanted to do was look away from from the horror before me, but my eyes would not close. “God. Help.”
Strong arms encircled my middle and a steady voice whispered into my hair, “Nothing, my girl, nothing you can do will save a single soul. Stop trying to save her and trust me… She is mine to save and yours to love.”
“But she could die!” I cried. “Do you not see her falling? Can you not see how close she comes to this spikes. She is in danger!”
“Trust me.” He whispered.
The fight in me grew stronger. I wrapped my arms around his arms so He could not let me go. Holding him so he would not stop holding me.
“Never will I leave you or forsake you. Trust me, dear one. Trust me, let her go and let me,” he sang.
Carefully I turned my face from her demise and focused my tired eyes on his war-torn face.
His smile was beautiful and his eyes spoke of freedom. Once more he leaned in close to me… So close that the blood from his temple reddened my cheek, “trust me, dear heart.”
“I do.”
The hard and glorious truth is the Jesus is the savior. It is mine to trust him and love those whom his heart longs after.
“Anytime, every time Jesus pulls the rug out from under us, he extends his hand to lift us to a place of refuge.” ~John Eldredge (Beautiful Outlaw)
I pray that he will continue to pull the rug out from under me, because even though it is excruciatingly painful at times, I know He is reminding me to trust him.
