The Second Day of Christmas by Aveleen Schinkel
I used to think I trusted God.
I grew up in a Christ-centred home and chose to follow Jesus as a teenager.
Obviously I trusted God; He’s, like, God. Why would I think otherwise?
The truth was, I knew in my head that God was trustworthy. But that didn’t mean I was actually placing my trust in Him. I still wanted to be neatly in control of everything, and I don’t think I even realized it. When I prayed, it was usually for one outcome (the one I thought was best, naturally) and I’d hope really hard for the answer I wanted. I never even considered that God might be working in a completely different way.
It took me a while to understand trusting in God is not just believing in Him. It meant surrendering my life, every part of it, including my expectations and desires, and trusting that God’s plan will always be better. It was a major lesson, and a moment so impactful that I remember it in vivid detail. It was also a big step forward in my personal faith journey. But despite that, surrender is something I’ve continued to wrestle with. It seems I need to continually relearn how to trust God all over again, in every season of my life.
How irritating.
The past year (or two) has been one such season, although I think it will also be another milestone of sorts in my faith journey. Much of it has been a rollercoaster—if there are good rollercoasters, not one of those. There’s been loss and hurt and burnout and change and uncertainty—and all the emotions you can think of that might go along with it. I continually wavered between handing control over to God and fearfully grasping it back.
God, of course, has gently walked alongside me anyway—although I’m sure it’d have been easier to walk alongside a high-strung squirrel at a Christmas market. Thankfully, our Father is a patient one. He wasn’t offended that I had to learn this lesson again (and again). He wasn’t put off that I forgot His past faithfulness.
Instead, it was like He’d issued me a loving challenge: “Try me. See how trustworthy I am. See how I will provide for you. See how much I love you.”
And each time I inched tentatively forward, testing the ice, He proved to be solid
ground.
I was eventually riding the pendulum the other direction, of course, tossing God the reins with a reckless sort of joy and gleefully waiting to see what would happen next. Why had I ever tried shouldering the weight when He’s the only one who can bear it? Why wrestle for control over a future He is already in control of?
I wish I could stay in that space forever. Unfortunately, it would appear that I am
imperfect, and those old habits sometimes slink back in like a wet dog. I haven’t reached some cloud-misted peak of spiritual achievement yet, but I am still trying. Trying to surrender control back to God, day after day, over and over again. And He is always there, waiting for me.
You know the worship song Waymaker? I first heard it in Ecuador and learned it in Spanish before I ever sang it in English. I still love that version. But the lyrics,
especially of the bridge, reach a deep place in my heart no matter what language I’m singing them in:
Even when I don’t see it, You’re working
(Aunque no pueda ver estás obrando)
You never stop, You never stop working
(Siempre estás, siempre estás obrando)
That declaration is a constant reminder of that first time I realized I could trust God with everything. And in this hard and beautiful season of relearning that lesson, I’m reminded once again that even when I can’t see it, God is always working in the background of my life.
He is solid ground, and He is worth trusting.
You can find a downloadable PDF of this reflection here.
Each day, a new reflection will drop here. We hope you enjoy them and reflect upon, experiencing the presence of Christ in this season.