night flight trust

Yesterday, I had the TV on to keep me company, and Tyra Banks (now you know why I say I don’t watch TV–who would admit to watching this?) was doing an exercise where people fall backwards into the arms of people who are “catchers.” It was supposedly to build blind trust. It seems like we played this game at slumber parties in the 70s, so I guess the technique has re-emerged as a trust builder. Anyway, I thought it strange that these people had tears in their eyes and talked about how hard it was to fall blindly into the arms of waiting people. And it didn’t take long to realize I am not that different. You know me, Lord.

I get so bogged down with my lack of trust to remember how good God is, and He shows me over and over that He wants such good things for me. This morning I worked my way through several favorite blogs, eventually to Big Mama where she wrote about a prayer her husband spoke over her that so nailed my lack of trust, I am ashamed to admit how taken aback I was with the wisdom of his prayer for her. He said, “I prayed for you this morning. I prayed that God would heal whatever it is in you that feels like anytime He is doing something really good in your life that it means something bad is going to happen.” What is there that causes me to feel that way? Does something bad always have to accompany growth? I secretly have believed this lie. I’m sorry, Lord.

A dear friend reminded me of these words of consolation from Hinds Feet on High Places, by Hannah Hurnard, a favorite old book similar to Pilgrim’s Progress: In the book, the Shepherd shows Much Afraid a great fall of waters and He asked her “What do you think of this fall of great waters in their abandonment of self giving?” She trembled and replied that they were beautiful but terrible beyond anything she had ever seen. He asked her “Why terrible?” She replied it was because of the leap they had to make, “the awful height from which they must cast themselves down to the depths beneath, there to be broken on the rocks.” As she meditates further on the sight and speaks more of her thoughts, the Shepherd speaks and says, “At first sight perhaps the leap does look terrible, but as you can see, the water itself finds no terror in it, no moment of hesitation or shrinking, only joy unspeakable, and full of glory, because it is the movement natural to it. Self-giving is its life. It has only one desire, to go down and down and give itself with no reserve or holding back of any kind. You can see that as it obeys that glorious urge the obstacles which look so terrifying are perfectly harmless, and indeed only add to the joy and glory of the movement.” (pps. 186 & 187 of Hinds Feet on High Places) I wrote my friend to tell her how often I feel like Much Afraid and had to pull the book out to look at it again. She wrote me back to remind me that Much Afraid eventually became Grace and Glory. I wrote her back, I want it this side of heaven. Soon, Lord.

This morning, I started with an email from Karen who simply makes me smile. She said they were sharing Hawaiian and Winnie the Pooh quotes all morning at work and having such a good time. I never knew there was so much wisdom from the honey pot, but it seems Pooh is quite the philosopher. She shared another quote, but upon doing my research, I found this from Pooh’s Little Instruction Book: “Rivers know this. We shall get there some day.” Let it be, Lord.

Karen also included another quote as she closed from Max Lucado’s John 3:16 that melted me. “God will not let you go. He has handcuffed himself to you in love. And he owns the only key. You need not win his love. You already have it. And, since you can’t win it, you can’t lose it. Others demote you. God claims you. Let the definitive voice of the universe say, You’re still a part of my plan.” Of all days, I needed this. I often feel I thwart God’s plan in my fears, in my disobedience. And yet He knows exactly who we are and loves us just the same. Thank you, Lord.

Tonight, my son goes on a night flight as a pilot, where has has to have complete trust in his instrument panel and not in what he can see with his eyes or what his other senses tell him. It is quite simply, a matter of trust. We have to. Keep him safe, Lord.

I love the word picture of this song, going “whistling in the dark, making light of it.” He moves us from complacency to the arms of His sure and catching Love. Bless Your mighty Name, Lord.