As stated previously, I have issues with trust.
Specifically, I don’t do it. Trust people, that is.
Which is why life is so hard for me. Because life is based on trust. In the two weeks since I last posted about trust, I have been hit over the head repeatedly with the fact that I really have no control over my life. This = not cool.
It’s a series of uncomfortable events.
First, as regards my last post about trust, I went to a dance. Dances are supposed to be fun. And it was. At least, until I had a massive panic attack and had to go hide in the corner. I don’t have panic attacks. They imply a lack of control, and I am the queen of control. You can probably see where this is going.
Second, I realized that there is a very real chance that I will not be able to return to this college because of lack of funding. In order to return, I have to keep my academic scholarship, somehow find a job, and earn enough money to cover the leftover. Although there are things I can do about that, right now I am kind of stuck. Which leads me to three.
Third, I am not capable of keeping my grades high enough to retain my academic scholarship. This, however, is the first thing that really alerted me to this lesson.
They’re high enough anyway.
It may appear that I just contradicted myself, but I did not. I said that I am not capable, but in spite of that, I am averaging high enough. Some people might think it is the result of hard work, but that is not enough.
My grades are good by the grace of God alone.
I study, and I memorize, but in the end, I stand or fall on God’s grace. My theology test by all rights should have been a flop. I only had twenty four hours to study, and I was on medication that made me sleepy. Somehow, I managed to memorize all the right things.
The grace of God.
Fourth, everyone went away for fall break and left me and one of my roommates alone. This should not have ended up well. As stated previously, I do not trust people nor do I like to spend large amounts of time with them, especially not with just one person.
We’re writing a book together.
Fifth, I am a person who loves traditional churches. By traditional, I mean classic, Baptist, little-white-clapboard-church-where-you-use-hymnals traditional. I am intensely uncomfortable in contemporary churches. I think that pastors should wear suits.
Because everyone was gone, I went with my roommate to her contemporary church that meets in a school, where the pastor wears jeans and they don’t sing very many hymns.
I think God is calling me there.
I fought, and I yelled, and I signed up for their new members class. Their pastor wears jeans. I don’t want to go. God told me to anyway. I don’t know if I can survive this on my own.
Only by the grace of God.
Finally, I have been sick throughout this whole ordeal. As I said to my roommate, every time I decide to trust God with one more thing, he asks for another.
Let me finish with a word-picture:
Imagine a girl standing on a rock in the midst of a sea of lava. Surrounding her are all the things she holds most dear.
One by one, each is plucked up and rescued from destruction, but taken away from her. The island grows smaller and smaller. The heat rises, she paces, and it grows smaller. Finally, she is standing on the last little bit left and she can barely keep from falling.
When she reaches the end, when she finally trusts, will He let her fall?
She is lifted up, and set upon a mountain, and it’s not her job any more.
All she has to do now is obey.
And she is free.