But God, I Don’t Trust These People

As I drove home from the gym this morning, I found myself fearful, anxious, and daydreaming in the land of “worst case scenario”– a not-s0-fun place to dwell, vacation, or even visit for a tiny, little bit.

Not. at. all.

But I was there this morning.

And the fearful train of thought that kept terrorizing my mind went something like this.

But what if someone hurts him? What if someone touches him inappropriately? What if someone takes him in a back room? What if someone takes advantage of his littleness and threatens him? What if I am sending him away to be hurt? What if…What if…What if…?

Safety Village.

He was supposed to be going to “S-A-F-E-T-Y   Village” at his future Elementary School (that is literally two doors down from our front door) and now all of a sudden, this whole thing looks, sounds, and feels a whole lot like “Scary Village” in my mind.

NOT. SAFE.

Where did this come from? Why am I suddenly afraid of community volunteers putting on an educational event for school-aged children? WHY in the world am I all of a sudden channeling my inner neurotic, obsessive, fearful, over the edge and beyond the ledge…helicopter mom-self? WHAT IN THE WORLD?!?! 

But as I drove the six blocks home and waited at the two traffic lights, I felt the Lord’s presence.

And because I felt the Lord’s presence, I decided that I would sit quietly and wait for His reassuring whispers to my unhealthy and unhelpful fears beat Him to the punch with all my “But, yeah’s.”

Out loud, in an audible voice, I said, “But God, I don’t trust these people. I don’t know them, and I don’t trust them. I just don’t.”

And as clear as a message could be (without any noise at all), the  Spirit responded with soul noise.

“It’s not them that I’m asking you to trust. I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I know, BUT I don’t trust them.”

“I know, Jessica…I know. But I’m not asking you to trust them; I’m asking you to trust ME. I’m asking you to take your scary fears about ‘Safety Village’ and entrust them into my arms, remembering WHO I am and WHOSE Caden is. THAT is what I am asking you to do.”

Climbing the stairs to our little brick home, the one with the finger-printed storm door and the chalk scribbled on the porch wall, I rehearsed WHO HE IS.

He is the creator, sustainer, and redeemer.

He is the one who rescues, saves, and forgives.

He is omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient.

He is the one who fed the 5,000, gave sight to the blind, and cast out demons.

He is the one who separated the waters, walked on the water, and changed the water.

He is the one who defeated giants, closed the mouths of lions, and consumed an altar with fire.

He is the one who healed the lame, gave sight to the blind, and forgave the tax collectors.

He is the one who gave me breath, conquered death, and secured my eternity.

He is big, and He is strong, and He is mighty.

HE IS GOD, and He is control of ALL.

And because He is who He says He is, I don’t have to trust THEM; I just have to trust HIM–the only one who will always and forever be “FOREVER-EVER TRUSTWORTHY” and “FOREVER-EVER SAFE.”  

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