Trust Me

A few days ago I felt like God was speaking directly to my heart, two simple words: Trust me.

These words came specifically in regards to a situation that has brought me a lot of frustration. And although those instructions have been very hard to follow for me in the past (didn't I just blog about letting God have control of my life...and how unnatural that is for me?), it has been easy this time. Maybe because I heard the direction so clearly.

Then on Sunday two more simple words came to my heart: Just wait. Not as in the patience I blogged about last week. Not as in "just wait and you'll get what you want." More like when someone says, "Just wait until you see what I have planned for your birthday." Or, "Just wait until you see what I got you for Christmas." The kind of just wait that means someone has something planned for you that is so exciting for them as the giver, and will be exciting for you to receive.

So those two phrases have been running in my head since then. And it's helped me so much with patience and trust and knowing that God has a plan for me. I was thinking about Psalm 139 where it says, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

And that verse coming to mind, coupled with the two phrases, has brought me to this realization: God is a better writer than me. 


I've always loved that verse in Psalm 139 because I liked that it implies God is a writer. I could identify with that. But it was only yesterday that it hit me that he's a better writer than I am. It should've been obvious, perhaps, but I guess I just didn't think about it.

All my hopes and plans and daydreams are nothing compared to what God wrote in his book before one of my days came to be. I don't know what he has written. But I'm pretty sure he's excited to show me, in his time. And I'm excited to see, in his time. Because I know it's so much better than anything I've written in my head.

Just wait.

God In A Box

“As for an idol, a craftsman casts it, and a goldsmith overlays it with gold and fashions silver chains for it. A man too poor to present such an offering looks for wood that will not rot. He looks for a skilled craftsman to set up an idol that will not topple.” – Isaiah 40:19-20

These verses come right after several verses that talk about God’s amazing power, his unfathomable wisdom, and how small everything—even whole nations—are to him.

And then in stark contrast, we see what an idol has to offer: a sense of us being in control. Not only do human hands have to fashion the idol, but it’s up to us to determine the idols survival. If we don’t select the right wood or balance the idol, it will rot or topple.

You don’t see a lot of literal idols today, at least not in America. I don’t know anyone who’s ever commissioned a statue to worship. But I do think we crave this same sense of control.

In the verses preceding these, we’re made to feel small. Almost insignificant. With an idol, we wouldn’t feel small at all. We’re in control. Sometimes we don’t want a god beyond our control and understanding. Even if we don’t cast a golden idol today, I think we sometimes limit our declarations of who God is and what he can do, putting him a box so we don’t feel as small and powerless.

But God is infinitely more powerful than us. Even when verses 15 and 17 talk about “all the nations,” it describes them as “worthless” and “less than nothing” in comparison to God. Think about all the power represented by the leaders of all the nations. All of them. And it’s less than nothing in God’s eyes. That’s how big he is. That’s how powerful he is.

And he won’t fit in the cast I’ve made in my mind to contain him so I can feel a sense of control.

God's Number

When my family was all gathered around for one of our pre-Christmas meals, my four-year old nephew Wesley asked, "What's God's number?"

We tried to figure out what he meant. Phone number? No. Weight? No. With each guess he just kept saying, "No, his NUMBER."

Finally my sister had the smarts to ask, "Wesley, what's your number?"

"Four."

"So you want to know how old God is?" Wesley nodded. "God doesn't have a number, because he was never born."

Wesley accepted this answer, and we moved on. But as I was mediating recently on Psalm 93, this line from verse 2 stuck out to me: "You are from all eternity." One thing I do when I reflect on Scripture is try to picture it. The Lord reigns? Pictureable. Robed in majesty? Pictureable. Armed with strength? Pictureable. But from all eternity? It struck me how incomprehensible this truly is.

I don't know if Wesley moved on because his childlike faith just accepted the answer his mom had given him, or if he was bored since we'd taken so long to figure out what he was even asking. But I know that incomprehensible things often trip adults up in their faith. How can you believe in a God with no number? That's why the Israelites so often turned to idols. These were tangible gods they could understand completely. They had a beginning - a beginning the Israelites themselves had given!

But when I really stop to think about it, I'm glad there are things about God that we can't picture or understand. If God was small enough to fit inside my feeble brain, he wouldn't be much of a God, would he?