I stop. Oh. Huh.
And I listen.
“You should be waiting with eager expectation.” Waiting. To see what I, the Great I Am, will do.
Goodness. So Father’s looked at His girl and has seen something–she’s needing a change in her posture.
Stop bracing. Rather, em-brace with eager expectation the work and the hand of God in my life. Em-brace the promise He’s given; believe what He said He will do. Em-brace with hope, with joy, the future that awaits.
And just like that, I’m called to repentance. Called to greater holiness. Invited to come deeper, to let go just a little bit more. Called to bigger faith…
I’m leafing through my journal, fingers gripping the familiar Italian leather, embossed with leaves of green. And find this: “Either I can be trusted with all, or I cannot be trusted at all.”
Ah. And there lies the key at the bottom of the page, written longhand in ballpoint ink. This, I know, is the secret to trust that’s greater. To holding fast to joy. The key to faith that walks on water. God, I know–I know–can be trusted with all.
This is how we wait, you and I, in the midst of trial severe. When walking through the fire, this is how we stand. It’s how we press in, press through, press on. And come straight out the other side, standing, victorious, with no hair (not one) singed on head or the smell of smoke upon our clothes.
We stop bracing and begin em-bracing, for God (we know this) can be trusted with all.