So we’ve come full circle. Tangible introduced us to the idea that God, the great I AM, leaves his sentences unfinished, open ended. Not to be filled in with whatever we think we want, but to be filled up with everything we might ever need.
And here I stand on the mini golf course, like the widow with her two mites. Giving out of my poverty, flat dependent upon the Lord for wisdom, and holding my breath until Jesus finishes His sentence. I AM…
“Power struggles happen when the kid no longer trusts you,” she said.
He no longer trusts me, she said. Not trust me? Who does he think he is? This kid’s ego is out of control. What right has he to question my…
And then, like a Father with a hysterical child, Jesus took my hands in His own, gazed in my eyes, and whispered:
I AM not trusted either.
The unfinished sentence, finished. And not at all what I might have expected. Jesus was not trusted either.
“Let me show you,” He said.
“[My] people were slaves in Egypt. So [I] rescued them.
[I] had divided the sea. [I’d] moved a cloud. [I’d] sent a pillar of fire. [I’d] given them water from a rock and rained down bread from heaven.
And still [my] people didn’t trust [Me]. ‘God hates us!’ they said.
I had saved their lives and they said, ‘But we miss our onions!'”
{Sally Lloyd-Jones, Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing, p135}
“Noah’s district doubted My message of repentance.
Jonah doubted My plan for Ninevah.
Joshua doubted My might over Jericho.
David doubted My love was more beautiful than Bathsheba.
Jairus doubted My power to bring new life to the dead and dying.
My own disciples doubted My very presence.”
“And you too, Tracey. You doubt the work of My hands in the life of your child. I AM not trusted,” He finished.
I didn’t want to hear that last part. But oh how I needed to hear His voice, His message.
I needed to know Jesus and I stood in solidarity. That we shared this tent of meeting dubbed Misunderstood & Mistrusted. If Jesus dwelt here, then clearly being in His presence wasn’t the problem. That was Pure Peace. But knowing how to get out this tent and still stay by His side? Now that was different story.
I also needed to hear how I helped drive the stakes that erected the tent named Misunderstood & Mistrusted. And summoned Jesus there in the first place.
Did I, as the ageless song sings, know whom I have believed? And am I persuaded that He is able to keep that which I’ve committed unto Him against that day? {For I Know Whom I Have Believed, Daniel W. Whittle – super-cool old song, especially when performed with Ukeleles, harmonicas, and a slap-happy drummer.}
If you can stick with me, I’ll tell the rest of the story in two weeks. But next week? Next week I’m jumping up and down to share how the widow and her two mites inspired this year’s Thanks-Giving Tree. Wont’ you join me?
Might I Pray for Us?
Dear Jesus, You are here. You are real. And You promise to be with me every step of my journey. Yet I doubt you. I confess that I have helped drive the stakes that erected the tent of mistrust. Thank you for not giving up on me, for proving your love for me over and over again. Please help me know whom I have believed, and become persuaded that You are able…more than able. Amen.
Crossing Jordan 