Remember when (about 20 years ago) we saw the slogan "NO FEAR" everywhere? On t-shirts and hats and bumper stickers. I tried to find a t-shirt back then in a baby size for one of my sons, since this slogan fit him so well. Never found the shirt. But the slogan still works for me. In fact, much more so now.
I've come to realize, in contemplating TRUST, that
While in the kitchen, making a cup of tea this morning, I spotted him! Flitting around on the iron chandelier again! Since I stayed home from work today, not feeling well, this was particularly cheering. Thanks again, Lord.
What do we often do when we're in agony? Thrash about, clawing, scratching, screaming, blaming, condemning. . . . . . . fleeing. Literally or figuratively, we often lash out or try to run away.
But during Jesus' agony He prayed more earnestly. Could there be a more stark contrast?
The implication is that Jesus was already praying, and then began praying MORE earnestly.
I've come to realize that Jesus really didn't want to go to the cross, any more than I would. But He submitted to His Father's will. Even if His will was very painful, unpleasant, humiliating, frightening. In fact, it seems that it was the very unpleasantness of it all that spurred the more earnest prayer. It was when most of us would turn and run or fight back that our Saviour stayed. And prayed. More earnestly.
I see Jesus' agony being under control, like all aspects of His life--agony under control, frustration under control, power under control, fear under control------LIFE--------all under divine control.
My life can be under divine control--IF I'm willing to hand over the reins.
Discouraged and overwhelmed, I stepped out onto the covered patio to get some air and talk to the Lord. I stepped off the patio and onto the lawn. Suddenly a nuthatch flew under the patio covering and just hovered, almost like a hummingbird, then finally lited on the strand of hanging lights.
Then two more- flitting around, hovering, then one lited on the light strand, near the first, the third landed on the iron chanderlier hanging over the table- only four or five feet from me. My heart filled to bursting, as the nuthatches and I just looked at each other and I recalled God's sweet promise, I care for the birds,Vicki, don't you know I care for you?
I have never seen nuthatches behave like this before or since.
I don't expect to.
They were the reminder I needed then and the inspiration for my year-long quest for a deeper TRUST in the ONE whose eye is always on the [nuthatch].