Learning who to trust

"I don't need religion in my life." A slight glance at me and he qualifies the statement, "It's good for some people, but I'm fine without that."

A brief allusion to purpose, something more than the material and this life in the flesh, and the conversation has already moved on...

Then today was a day of choices, decisions and expressing opinions. A day of doubting my judgement, feeling inadequate, a deep anxiety that keeps thoughts ticking over, and over. Did I say enough? Did I get it right? Who am I to question, to change the plan?

I can't trust myself. I know, too well, my blindnesses, the gaps in my knowledge, my tendency to rush in and reconsider later. The times I speak quickly with passion then wonder if I've stepped on breakables.

Responsibility, wisdom and thoughtfulness are qualities I aspire to. But where does reliance on self become a symptom of pride or self-idolatry? Does my anxiety about getting it right spring from a desire to serve well or am I just self-obsessed?

Admit that the buck stopping with me, completely, is wearying and heavily burdensome.

I need the God-with-me taste of bread and wine in my mouth. To grasp the cornerstone truth of a Lord who knows best. He who sees the beginning, the middle, the end of the story all at once.

Rest is knowing that even when I don't know the answer, he does.

Rest is knowing that even when I get it wrong, he can make good of it.

Rest is the prayer that admits incompleteness, that I'm not fine without him. The prayer that puts the anxieties and obsessions into his hands and allows him to bear them, and me.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30.

photos from stockxchng.