Doubting my trust

So here I sit in a hotel in the south-eastern corner of Nebraska tonight. Why am I here? To honor my grandfather’s life by remembering him in his death. Yet here I sit, wondering if I’m dodging what God might have for me, even though I know for a fact that I have people praying for God to show me His will while I’m here, to open doors or keep them shut, and to simply obey Him as He guides me in peace. Even though I know without a doubt where the feelings of peace lie. Even though I’ve asked God, and gotten answers that are clear, in line with what I know from His word, and in line with my heart.

I don’t feel that I’m doubting God. He’s quite clear. It’s more that I’m doubting myself and my trust of God. Like I feel like I’ll cave in, that I’ll take a step too short or too long, when in fact God is showing me just what he’d like me to do.

I went for a walk today. I found my grandparents’ old home. I took a few pictures. I began to remember some things, not specific details really, but little things, familiarities, road signs, buildings, that kind of thing. I realized in all the years of visiting this town as a child and young man I’d never walked the town. It’s a nice little town.

On the way back, I began to think about seeing if I could swing in and see my grandpa before all the visitation and funeral stuff started. The funeral home is right down the street from my hotel, and when I’d passed it on the way out there were several cars there – family, friends, staff, I don’t know, but it hasn’t even crossed my mind. Now it was, and as I walked by the building, the last car drove away. I stepped inside, asked the man working there if I could take a few moments with him, and he said that was fine.

I was finally sad. The pressure was finally all gone. I was alone with him. Even though I’d already said my goodbyes, it was nice to stand there next to him, in the quiet, alone. No wondering, no stress, nothing… just peace.

That set the tone for the rest of the evening, because I could now to the viewing and not have to squeeze in time with grandpa. I hugged my grandma, talked to her for a bit, talked with my aunt’s husband for quite awhile, and then even met some new people (my grandma’s sister? or her sister’s family?) It was enjoyable. Not happy happy joy joy reunion enjoyable, but good.

Tomorrow’s the funeral. I’m looking forward to the service, to listening to words about my grandfather and his life, and his legacy. While I’m not excited about it, it will be good for him to be laid to rest. There’s some pressures looming. Stuff I’ve been halfway invited to (as in a phone call the night before) that I don’t even know if I ought to go to. Actually, I do. I do know what God is asking me to do, what He’s freeing me to choose, to make a decision, and to know that He has my back, because His name is written all over my heart.

So I choose to trust. To trust the guidance God is giving me, to believe that when He shows me something clearly, He is not just sending me out on my own in the midst of… wolves, sheep, who knows… who cares… If God is for me, who can be against me? No one. I don’t even need to wonder! He is totally trustworthy.

It’s so easy to doubt my trust. To believe that I’m not really believing. To feel like I “need” to admit that I’m not trusting, that somehow, there is an expectation that I’m going to fall short, to disappoint.

Disappoint. There’s that word. The killer arrow of my past that still stings when I hear it. From others. From those close to me. And most of all, from me. Disappointment with myself. That kills my heart so much, and so often. Assuming I’ll fail. Assuming I’ll let someone down. Assuming that the vibe I’m getting is not the whole story, and that a scary monster is going to jumnp out of the closet when I least expect it.

I choose to trust. Trust myself. Trust my Helper. Trust my Creator.

Well I don’t know what I just wrote. Half an hour of train of thought… Maybe I’ll re-read this later on.

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