I’ve made a decision. It may not seem that dramatic, but it’s been coming for a while and I think it has the potential to change my life. Here it is:
If I say I trust God to take care of me, I need to trust God to take care of me.
I know that sounds obvious and simplistic, but I’ve been so worried about so many things lately (work, money, future… I’ve even found myself not able to sleep at night because I don’t know who’s going to take care of my in my old age. I’m 36.) and worry is contrary to what I say I believe: that God loves me and cares what happens to me.
I don’t understand, but I remember one time when it was as if I actually heard the voice of God. About 8 years ago, during a time when I was not doing very well emotionally or spiritually, I found out that my landlord was selling the house I was living in and I had to move. That doesn’t seem like that big of a deal now, but I was having some issues with insecurity and upheaval and it just felt like one more thing I couldn’t do. Even though this news wasn’t exactly earth-shaking, it felt like it was.
I talked to a number of people and shared how scared I was about the future and how much this one thing triggered me. The one thing I heard over and over – from people who were Christians and those who weren’t – told me to ask God (or “the universe”) for exactly what I wanted. For some reason, what came into my mind was that I really wanted a house with stairs, a yellow bedroom, and purple flowers out front. I don’t know why those things were what came up, but I kept asking for them.
I felt pretty silly but then I found a house to rent. It had stairs in the front and a few inside, beautiful purple Mexican sage out front, and the room that my roommates didn’t want was a lovely pale yellow. It was so exactly what I was looking for that I still have a couple of friends who say “remember the purple flowers?” whenever I doubt. I felt like God was looking me directly in the eyes, saying he loved me and would always take care of me.I know it could be a coincidence but it wasn’t. I can’t explain how I know, but I do.
Again, I don’t understand. Why would God provide what I was asking for in silly details of housing when he wasn’t healing my depression (and didn’t for over 6 more years)? Why was God providing this and not other things that I was asking for: a husband, healing for someone I knew with cancer, the ability to sleep through the night (still don’t have any of those)? Less importantly, why did I get to have this house for only 9 months before that landlord sold it? And, of course, why would God pay attention to these details when there are people without basic needs?
I don’t know. I have no idea. But I’m making a decision to trust. It doesn’t come naturally to me (it would be an understatement to say I’m a worrier) but that seems to make it more important somehow. A few years ago, I got a tattoo to remind me that God was always with me. It’s a beautiful thing, to know that the presence of God is with me. It’s time to live like it.