Day 3: Blind Faith Sees

Hi there! This post is part of a 31-Day writing adventure I’m embarking on. I’d love for you to join me and read along. You can find the introduction to the series, and a “Table of Contents” as each day goes live, right here. Thanks so much for dropping in!

There are some very serious things going on in the world right now. A child is dying of hunger every fifteen seconds. {You can do something to help here.} Because of human trafficking, there are more people in slavery than ever before. {See previous link – World Vision is also fighting human trafficking.} There is talk of a forceful disarmament in Syria — and it sounds a lot like war. And in the USA, the government is shutting down over a disagreement about spending, and health care.

Why do the nations rage and the people plot a vain thing? … {Ps. 2:1}

People are very nervous, even fearful about what the future holds. How much will they have to spend to get the care that they need? Will they be able to afford it? Will they have to switch to a health care plan that will have high deductibles and low coverage? It can create anxiety in the most peaceful of souls.

Even if the circumstances in the world around you aren’t enough to bring you down, you probably have something in your own life that you’d change in a heartbeat if you could. You may have recently walked through something that still has you reeling — you’re fighting to find your feet and wondering what moving forward looks like.

The unexpected events of life are often holy ground.

When my Dad was in the hospital for that never-ending week earlier this year, and we didn’t know what the outcome would be, I clung to hope until my knuckles were white, but I knew that hope had to be grounded not in my Dad’s recovery (though I was absolutely praying for it). I knew that my hope had to be in the goodness of God Himself.

I couldn’t see what was going to happen, so I had to lean on blind trust, looking to the God who could see.

I chose to trust that life would go on. I chose thankfulness for the time we had together before he was gone. And when I chose to lean on His wisdom, and not my own understanding, I was met with unmistakeable peace.

James explained it like this:

But the wisdom from above is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no favoritism and is always sincere. {James 3:17}

And this is a very unexpected discovery: the “wisdom” of the world — knowledge about the things going on around the world, understanding of the intricacies of the issues, both domestic and abroad, is likely to lead to deeper anxiety.

It looks like the world is a big blooming mess.

But the verses in the Psalm I previously mentioned? They go on to say “He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; The Lord shall hold them in derision.” {Psalm 2:4}

What does that mean? God is not anxious about the outcome. You get the feeling that He considers some of the grand schemes of the nations amusing. Not because He doesn’t care about us.

I imagine it’s more like a moment when one of my children, in their innocence, tries to do something that seems logical to them, in their limited understanding. A few weeks ago, the Tank, who is learning to undress himself, kept pulling one arm out of his sleeve. He’d stick it up through the collar of his shirt and then feel stuck and not know what to do next.

When he asked for help with a perplexed look on his face, I’d laugh and gladly put things right.

In the same way, I think there are times when — as humbling as it is to admit it sometimes — God’s ways are absolutely higher than ours. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. Our capacity is too limited to get it.

As a result, the wisdom from heaven sometimes looks a lot like trust. We are wise enough to know we are not as wise as we think we are. We rather choose to trust that God is as wise as we believe He is, and, even in the face of health care scares, or losing someone of you love, somehow, the one thing you can be sure of, is His glorious goodness.

This is the wisdom that brings peace.

He is sovereign. He is altogether good. He sits in the heavens and laughs — which reminds us that this vapor we call life can probably be taken a little less seriously.

We can trust without seeing now, and this helps us to truly see: the best is yet to come. How perfectly fitting, we often call that “Going home to glory.”

xCC