I used to be suspicious of God. My default view of him was that he was holding out on me. Often, I felt he was mad or disappointed in me. And these feelings led to a general doubt whether he really was good.
Of course, I didn’t know I felt this way. I wouldn’t have consciously been able to articulate it. But it showed up in my life as a lack of trust. And the evidence for distrust is directedly related to our level of control.
When we want to control God, when we want to control our circumstances, or when we want to control others—the general root is a lack of trust in God.
Trust is not the same as belief, though they are sometimes used interchangeably. We can have a firm belief in God, in Jesus, and in all that he accomplished for us at the cross—and yet not fully trust him.
These three things I’ve learned about trust:
1. Trust comes through relationship.
2. Experience builds trust.
3. Our level of trust directly corresponds to our level of surrender.
At the core of my difficulty trusting God was a wrong view of him, and a wrong view of him will always lead us to suspicion and control. Over the last decade, I’ve discovered more and more who God really is—the perfect, loving Father he’s always been. This changes everything.
My ability to trust him grows as I see his continued faithfulness and goodness and as I learn to surrender every part of me—all that I want to control.
One of my favorite quotes comes from a parenting book I read years before we were parents. It says, “The only person I can control on a good day is myself.”
God gave us a spirit of self-control (2 Tim 1:7). We control our choices, our response to our circumstances, and our response to those we’re in relationship with. That’s it. We can’t control what other people do or every circumstance in our life. And we sure can’t control the Creator of the universe, try as we might.
When I know God is sovereignly in control, that He maintains all things, and by him and through him and for him, they exist; when I know this sovereign God is both holy and good, just and merciful, gracious and loving, present and faithful—then I can trust him fully with my heart, despite my circumstances.
In this world, you’ll have trouble. Jesus said so. But he didn’t say it without hope. He attached it to a promise—”Take heart, I’ve overcome the world” (John 16:33).
It seems like every time I’ve blogged over the last year, I’ve said the same thing: I’m in a hard season. It’s still true, though now it’s a season of grief. My heart hurts, and the pain and sadness overwhelm me some days. I simply and profoundly miss my mom. And yet I understand now why Paul writes that we do not grieve as those without hope (1 Thes 4:13). I understand the comfort God gives us in our grief because I’m experiencing it daily (2 Cor 1:4). His presence never leaves. He’s faithfully carrying me through good days and hard days.
This is no longer a mental assent, a choice to believe the truth of God’s word. It starts there, yes. But what grows is a familiarity and a certainty in the character of God and in the strength of our relationship.
That’s trust.
If we want to trust the Lord, we have to let go of our suspicions, embrace the truth of God’s nature and character, and surrender all to him.
“Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and shield.
For our heart is glad in him because we trust in his holy name.
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.”
—Psalm 33:20-22
We want to thank Laura Brandenburg for sharing this post.
