Trust

“SOMEDAY” IS TODAY 

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Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Everyone has a corner of their fridge where things seem to disappear. You look and look and don’t see them until they are growing something white and fuzzy or emitting a putrid smell. I’ve been there, too. No judgment here. But, I also have some things hidden in the back of my fridge that I know are there. In fact, I have carefully placed them where they aren’t easily seen because I’m saving them. 

Now, there is a time and place for saving things. But I’m learning that most of the time, it’s better to enjoy them than try to tuck them away for “someday.”

Case in point: a half-full jar of macadamia nut butter that’s in our fridge. We bought the giant jar when we knew we would be leaving Hawaii and moving back to the mainland. We tucked it, unopened, into a box that would be shipped with the furniture, dishes, and books we couldn’t carry on the plane. 

Seems wise, right? Well, we thought so. But if you’re doing the math, you may have realized that that “special” jar of macadamia nut butter is over four years old.

I was so determined to save it for when I really needed it (which is code for when I thought the occasion was special enough) that it has gone rancid and become inedible. 

By attempting to save it for “someday” I have wasted it. And that’s got me thinking about the scarcity mindset that I far too often live in. The scarcity mindset tells us that there’s not enough to go around so we have to hold tight to what we have. It tells us that God’s love and provision isn’t enough so we have to grab whatever we can and horde it away so we don’t have to trust Him, or anyone else. 

The scarcity mindset tells us it’s protecting us, but really it’s robbing us. Grace Leuenberger, on her Substack, wrote about it this way: “I have had a scarcity mindset that has, at times, led to deep skepticism and distrust, and robbed me of gratitude and honestly, joy.”

She goes even deeper, tying that scarcity mindset to her faith, and how at times she hasn’t believed that God’s grace is enough. 

Ouch. That stings.

How long have I treated God’s grace like my jar of macadamia nut butter? How often have I tucked it away, trying to save it for when I really need it, rather than enjoying it — and sharing it — here and now? 

As I throw away my rancid jar, I’m realizing that this isn’t how God wants me to live. Instead, He wants me to live by faith. He wants me to trust Him enough to enjoy the goodness He has given me today, without fear that it will run out. And I’m realizing I want to live that way, too. 

I’ve been so busy living for “someday” that I missed the fact that “someday” is actually today. 

Erik and I are going to visit Hawaii in a couple of months and we’re planning to bring back another jar of macadamia nut butter. But this time, I’m going to enjoy it. 

I’m going to lick if off the spoon.

Drizzle it on pancakes. 

Smear it on homemade bread. 

And I will thank God for every bite, knowing that if I run out tomorrow, it doesn’t matter, because today it was more than enough. After all, today is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24. 

EXPECTATIONS

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve been told several times in my life to lower my expectations. 

I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was out of college, so everyone told me my expectations were too high. 

When I said I hoped my literature major would allow me to write for a living, people shook their heads and said, “You’ll end up a teacher.” 

The message was clear: don’t expect too much — or too many good things — otherwise you’ll be disappointed. I totally get it. People close to me have seen my tender heart and wanted to protect it. They’ve wanted to spare me from pain. 

In response, I’ve tried to tamper my expectations for years. But if I’m honest, it hasn’t served me very well. Instead of fully embracing the delight of a long-planned gathering with friends, I tell myself not to expect it to be too good or I’ll be disappointed. When I go to a new doctor, I tell myself if I plan for the worst — another “Well that is weird” statement when I list my symptoms — then I won’t be disappointed when someone fails to give me a solid diagnosis yet again. 

But the self-talk and emotional preparations rarely do what I hope they will. Because we can’t really protect ourselves from disappointment. 

It just happens. 

It’s part of life. 

But today, as I was reading a section of God’s Joyful Surprise, by Sue Monk Kidd, I realized that I’ve been thinking of expectations all wrong. Maybe you have, too.

In the book, Kidd talks about expecting to hear God’s voice. Expecting to see His love. Expecting to see Him work in our lives. Every single day. 

If God is who He says He is — and the Bible offers a myriad of evidence that He indeed is  — I don’t think we need to lower our expectations. I think we need to expand them. 

We need to expect God to show us His love. 

We need to expect Him to work good out of even the hardest situation. 

We need to expect miracles. 

We need to expect Him to direct our paths through the nudging of the Spirit. 

We need to expect to see Him, and then, I think we will…more than we could ever expect. 

WHAT WOULD IT TAKE?

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My husband, Erik, and I like to walk together. We don’t go every day, but  more often than not we lace up our shoes and find some ground to cover. 

Sometimes we’ll drive for a “destination” walk. We’ll go to the waterfront in one of the nearby towns or pick a park to hike in. Most days, though, we walk in our neighborhood. It’s a rural area so there are no city sidewalks, and our three-mile route even takes us down a few woodsy trails. If we time it to avoid drop-off and pick-up at the nearby elementary school, we usually don’t see too much traffic. 

However, there is one main road we have to cross. Erik had my hand as we came to the road. As is often the case, I was lazily looking at the plants around, starting at trees and keeping an eye out for bunnies and squirrels.  A car whizzed by us and then Erik gently tugged me out into the street. 

I didn’t even flinch. 

Didn’t stop to look both ways myself.

I simply trusted him. 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I trust him. I know he loves me. I know he won’t lead me into danger. In fact, he points out dog poop just to make sure I don’t step in it. He is always keeping an eye out for me, protecting me. 

I’m so used to it that letting him guide me has become natural. So natural that in situations like crossing a street, I don’t second guess him. But today, as we kept walking our route, I heard God whisper a question straight to my soul.

Can you guess what it was?

“What would it take for you to trust me like that?”

Ouch. 

I’ve had a relationship with God longer than I’ve known Erik and yet I often second-guess His leading. 

“Really, Lord?”

“Are you sure?”

“What if it’s dangerous?”

“What if it’s too hard?”

“What if I get hurt – physically or emotionally?”

I could write a book full of excuses, but when it comes down to it, the truth is, I struggle to trust God’s guidance. 

Maybe it’s because I let fear and anxiety control too much of my life. 

Maybe it’s because I don’t spend enough time in His Word. 

Maybe it’s because I can’t see God or hold His hand like I can Erik’s. 

Maybe it’s all those things – and more.

I’m not sure the “why” actually matters as much as the question itself. 

What would it take for me to trust God implicitly? 

What would it take for you to? 

WHAT DOES TRUST LOOK LIKE?

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I’m sure you’ve reached that moment in your life. If you haven’t yet, you will. Probably many times. Sorry, but it’s the truth.

It’s the moment when you have to trust. When the ground feels shaky, you feel like you swallowed a boulder and your head is spinning.

That’s the place I’m at today. I’ve been here for a while. If we’re honest, we are here everyday, but the pace of our society and technology lets us keep it at bay. When we keep busy enough we don’t have time to peer into the unknown or look at the roadmap only to see there’s no path marked, just thousands of routes with no direction on which turn to take.

But today, today is quiet. Today I can’t hide behind a “To Do” list or a mountain of work, because God has cleared my plate. Some of you may be thinking, “I’d give anything for a day like that.” Let me tell you, it’s harder than it sounds.

How do you stare a day in the face knowing that nothing you do will really matter? How do you look at an empty calendar and feel purpose? How do you encourage the man who you love that God has a plan when you don’t see it? How do you trust when looking back you see a lot of dead ends?

The only answer I can come up with today is this:

Trust is a conversation.

Trust is being willing to be open, vulnerable and honest. Trust is crying with Job and saying to God, “I don’t like what you are doing, but I will not deny you.”

You can’t be real with someone if you don’t trust them. You can’t pour out your heart—and your hurts—if you don’t believe in them. You can’t be vulnerable if you don’t feel safe.

So today I’m choosing to claim my conversations with God, dark as they may be, as a victory because they remind me that I trust Him.