It is still my least favorite job in the history of the whole world.
Standing in the back of dad’s 2-ton red truck during harvest, shoveling the grain down into the corners of the truck as fast as I could as it poured from our John Deere combine’s auger. It always seemed like it was 134˚ on those days. With no shade.
And did I mention the crickets? Those horrible little creatures joined ugly old grasshoppers and took up considerable space in the back of that truck. And on me. They landed EVERYWHERE. No body part or piece of clothing was immune to their ickiness. (Let’s pretend that’s a real word. It works for me.)
The choking grain dust and the intense heat and the miserable bugs and the fact that I kept losing my balance in the shifting grain made for a not-fun-at-all day.
But.
That was one of the many experiences that taught me what it meant to work. To work hard. (Can I hear a loud You betcha! from my farmer friends!)
That was one of the best lessons I learned growing up.
And it was one of the most frustrating lessons I learned growing up.
Here’s the deal. Because we learned to work hard, it was easy to believe that we ALWAYS had to work hard. That we could ALWAYS fix everything. That we could ALWAYS come up with the solutions. That we could ALWAYS do it ourselves.
But when I take that same belief into other parts of my life – into my faith life especially – it just doesn’t work.
Why not?
Because God never intended for us to fight our battles on our own. He never intended for us to fix everything. He never intended for us to fight for control of tough times. My back-of-the-truck work ethic worked at harvest time, but it doesn’t work in my faith life.
What does He intend for us?
He wants us to TRUST HIM. To let go. To stop fighting the battle on our own.
God sees your frustration with the situation in your home. You’re trying to move from chaos to calm and nothing seems to be working.
He says, I know. Stop trying to change things on your own. Trust me with this.
He sees your anger at the injustices around you. Nothing makes sense and your desire to fix something is relentless.
He says, I know. I see what’s going on. Trust me with this.
He sees the choices that people you care about are making. Your conversations with them make matters worse and you see more trouble down the road.
He says, I know. I love them more than you ever can. Trust me with this.
The dictionary gives us this definition of trust: “reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.”
Well. Is there anyone or anything whose integrity, strength, or ability is greater than our Amazing God? No. Absolutely not. There isn’t.
God keeps His promises. He doesn’t lie. He knows about every detail of our situation – and He cares about it. He is in it.
This is a God we can trust.
You may have read Proverbs 3:5-6 many times. You’ve seen it on plaques, on social media posts, and notecards.
May I say with love from the bottom of my heart: Do not read these verses as simply a nice reminder or a phrase to quote. These are words from God’s holy Word – a directive. Something we are to follow. It’s a promise that brings life to our weary bones … if and when we apply the message to our heart.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”
My friend.
If you are feeling a bit overwhelmed, worn out, and tired of the situation you’re trying to control or fix (or wish would go way), stop struggling with it. Sit down. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Say this to God … “God, I’m tired. Will you please take this ______ (situation)? You are wise. You know best. You love us all so much. I give this to you. And as I’m learning to let go and trust you, please give me peace.”
There is nothing too big for God to handle.
So.
You can stop working so hard on something you can’t fix.
Leave the situation in the hands and heart of The One Who Knows and Cares.
He’s got this.
“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul;
in you I trust, O my God.” (Psalm 25:1)
