“Which would be more devastating to you? To wake up and realize there is no God, or that there is no money in your bank account?”
These words spoken by a dear friend years ago still echo in my mind, and at the time I was sure of my answer. It’s funny how life has a way of making us know where we stand, isn’t it? If we pledging to live without fear, it isn’t long before we’re walking through the most treacherous circumstances we’ve experienced.
And if we’re not careful, continually keeping our focus on the Author of our hope, we begin to think he’s some cruel tyrant delivering difficulty and chaos. I know because I’ve been there. Over the past four months, I had to decide whether I served a faithful, loving God or one who was aloof and careless.
I’m embarrassed to say I had to ask myself these things. But when your security blanket is yanked away from you and your worst insecurities are exposed, you’re forced to stand face-to-face with some hard questions.
If you ask the person closest to me (my husband) the easiest way to send me into an anxious state, the answer would be to harm my family.
The second would be a financial crisis. This was exactly what happened a few months ago.
Now, I could go into all the sordid details about why this happened, but doing so would make me weary and you lose boring minutes off your lifespan, so what I’ll tell you is this:
When bills were coming in like clockwork and the dog got sick, I sat at the computer, ready to deposit our tithe and asking, “Really, God? Do I really need to do this? Because I’m not sure my faith can take it.”
And every time, I sensed God say, “I’ve got this. Keep trusting. I will make a way through this wilderness.”
Then the car needed repair.
Then the rental house was trashed.
And again I was on my knees saying, “Really, God? I thought you had this. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”
After lamenting and sounding like a whiny child, I would read articles about refugees who were wondering where they would sleep that night or how they would eat their next meal. I knew God cared as any loving father would, but I chided myself for being so fickle.
But here’s the thing about God.
When our faith is as fickle as the wind, his love is as constant as the rising sun.
If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself.
2 Timothy 2:13 NIV
Every time we exercised our tiny mustard seeds of faith and said, “I’m not sure what’s going to happen next week, God, but this was never ours to begin with,” God saw us and met us where we were.
We continued to give because the more we did so, the more we saw the faithfulness of an unchanging God. Not because we deserved it or because he owed us anything, but because he’s a good Father.
Will you trust him with whatever it is you’re holding onto today? His faithfulness endures, even when our steps are unsure.