“If a man will resign himself in implicit trust to the Lord Jesus, he will find that He leads the wayfaring soul into the green pastures and beside the still waters, so that even when he goes hrough the dark valley of the shadow of some staggering episode, he will fear no evil. Nothing in life or death, time or eternity, can stagger a soul from the certainty of the Way, for one moment” (Oswald Chambers, Run Today’s Race).
That’s what I want — implicit trust in Jesus, no matter what. Lately, I find that my faith comes and goes like the ocean tides advancing and retreating, rising and ebbing. One moment, I am calm and collected and the next I am inwardly freaking out. Too often, my faith is too tied in to my emotions.
But the true saint of God has a steady faith. Or at least he or she is moving toward one. The hindrance to the necessary resignation of the soul to the ways of the Lord is the illusion of control that we cling to. The more I think I somehow can help God out or speed up His timeline, the more inclined I am to fret and worry.
I still love Corrie ten Boom’s imagery of staying on the train that’s going through a dark tunnel. Of course, you don’t leap off the train in the middle of the tunnel. You sit still and trust the engineer. But in the midst of life’s dark passages, it’s easy to want to go AWOL on God. But what’s the alternative? Lostness and the dark?
Lord, grow my faith. Help me to take my tiny mustard seed faith and put it in Your hands so that I can rest in Your promises and plans for me. Help me to know with my whole being that You are still working all things together for my good. Amen.

