Rejection stings and my tender heart is pierced. It would appear that I am not enough, I don’t measure up and I won’t be given the opportunity…again. Ouch. Of course these are my thoughts in response to the circumstance. This is me trying to sort it out, needing it all to make sense.
As I bring it to my Father I hear two words, “Trust me.”
I KNOW He is in this. I know it is right and good.
But it still hurts.
Interesting to me that he doesn’t respond to my doubt with a question:
- Why don’t you trust me?
- When will you trust me?
- What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?
He doesn’t pose a question at all.
I am full of questions. I’ve begun several emails. I’ve started a couple of texts. I’m looking for answers. But then I hear “Trust me.” So I delete the draft, backspace over the text and tuck my phone away.
Maybe the fact that he isn’t asking questions is an answer in itself.
He is telling me to trust him with what happened.
He is telling me to trust him with my unanswered questions.
He is telling me to stop asking these particular questions.
“Why? When? What’s it gonna take?”
The answers really don’t matter if I trust him with my life.
It is hard to tuck these questions away. But I’m doing my best. When they work their way up I take my pointer finger and tuck them back in with a determined choice.
Trust for me in this moment looks like my finger tucking in the unruly questions of my heart. What does trust look like for you?