Trust Me

As I dig my fingers into the sand and stare into the Okanagan sky lit up with more stars than I’m ever used to seeing, I realize that I’m stuck. Not physically, because I’m sitting in beach sand, not sinking sand, but stuck in my faith. I’ve spent this year under the illusion that there exists a way for me to hold you at arms length and keep you somewhere safe where you won’t mess with my heart or my dreams.

Because the truth is, I don't trust you yet.

How can I give your all my desires, all my dreams, all my heart, and trust that you will truly do what’s best with them? How can I believe that, even when it hurts and it’s hard, you are doing something more wonderful that I can see? And how can I trust that if you send me somewhere, even if I really don’t want to go there, it is the best place I could possibly be?

My heart has been demanding answers to these hard questions for a long time. I need to know. I need to believe that I can really trust you.

On this night, as I stare at the lake and behold the stars, I am suddenly aware of how very small I am. It dawns on me that maybe, I don’t really even understand my own desires. That somehow, I don’t even understand my own heart. & I realize that the work you are doing on my heart, so often seems like nothing but a messy array of joy and then pain, of love and then rejection. I have such a hard time seeing it but I know your work is good, oh I know. Sometimes it seems like nothing but hurt, but you are mending me. Sometimes it seems like chaos, but you are molding me. Sometimes it seems like confusion but you are teaching me.

I understand a whole lot less than I think I do, about myself and what I want and who you are. I echo some words I once read, I do not understand one thing in this world. Not one. When I whisper those words, there are days they feel so achingly true. With so many lingering questions and prodding thoughts, I feel like I do not understand anything.

But He does.

He knitted me together. He made my heart, he made my mind, he orchestrated my body so that it functions. He understands things about me that I don’t even understand. He knows more about my heart than I do: the way it seems to long and ache, and cry out for meaning. I might not understand, but He does.

So perhaps I can trust Him to hold my heart. To let Him enclose his strong, knowing hands around everything I am, and trust that He will not crush me underneath his great strength. To try and do it all on my own would be foolish, masochistic even. After all, do I trust myself or the maker of the heavens, earth and every living breathing human being?

Trust me, He whispers.

And just maybe I can.

love, mikayla

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One thought on “Trust Me

  1. I believe that trusting ourselves is trusting God. Think about it…and we can discuss it over coffee if you’re up for it before you leave for Indiana!

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