Circumstances big and small offer the opportunity to trust the Lord.
This morning is heavy, weighted and pregnant with anxiety. I tried to call my mom before the appointment to encourage her and my stepdad beforehand, but missed them. Perhaps some of my motive was to hear traces of hope in their voices. A few months ago, a scan revealed multiplying nodules in his lungs. Now we wait to learn how far things have progressed. The waiting is weighty. It is difficult to trust the Lord right now.
Natural Reactions and Trained Responses
In moments like this, I tend to default toward cleaning, with my mind rushing like a windstorm while I attempt to control and set order to the physical things around me while all everything goes crazy. I think there is a part of me that laments, “If I were in control, this wouldn’t be happening.” What a preposterous thought. But isn’t that what worrying actually is? The futile attempt to control without possessing the ability to do so? I've got to get God in the picture; He actually has control.
I look out the window to the barren trees and admire the naked, grey, cold worshippers of God. When God whittled them into fashion, they didn't foresee autumn. The question of trust the Lord would ask His magnificent trees seems to me crippling. “Will you forfeit your leafy, emerald splendor to the cold winter and trust Me to make it new?” I can see the evergreen, coniferous trees turn smugly away from their deciduous cousins.
The Struggle Is Real; But So Is The Victory
I can imagine the trees whispering amongst themselves, filtered through a host of emotions. Should my greenery, which sustains my Creator-given life, be let go? How can I live if I lose the leaves that generate my food and enable my growth? What will adorn my rough bark with jewels and glory? Why would the Lord ask this of me? How will I literally survive such a request?
And then there would be one tree that would implore them all to trust the Lord and yield to His request. And, leading by example, replies “yes, Lord.” And as the last of the nutrition is pulled from his leaves, his glory is magnified in a spectacular array of color. Encouraged by this, the other trees submit to God’s law and their foliage bejeweled the skyline, each tree glorifying the Lord in a more beautiful way than before. Then they would surrender their leaves to the bitter, cold, dark days of winter and stand naked, grey, and cold. Testament to their yielding trust.
In the fall, there are moments in the woods where you can hear the trees' worshipful song of surrender. When the temperature is just right overnight and the rising, warming sun unfurls on the canopy, the trees sing. It sounds like rain hitting the leaves. But the sunny morning proves it is not precipitation. It is the unified snapping of millions leaves, releasing from the branches. And for a lovely 30 seconds, the trees worship and lay down their glory for the sake of His promised renewal.
I really, really admire the trees.
Made To Depend On Him
And here I sit, a created being bearing the IMAGE of God, made higher than all His creation, and struggle with the same question offered by my Maker: “Will you trust Me?” The first trees had not yet experienced the hope and renewal of spring, but decidedly poised themselves strong in hope. I have had many “spiritual springs” before and know that spring always follows a spiritual winter. Always. He is faithful. And yet I still struggle to the point where it takes a windstorm bent on removing the foliage I won’t willingly yield.
What leaves are you holding onto? Are you in a season where you are having a difficult time letting go? Perhaps it's a wound that needs to heal or a fact that is difficult to accept. Whatever you are having trouble releasing, remember He is a Maker, Creator, and Redeemer. He will always bring you your springtime.
UPDATE: I (finally) received news that the doctor described "likely malignant" nodes are indeed not malignant. Happy news and praise the Lord!
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