Author: admin

Mindfulness

Originally posted 10/19/2020

Welcome to another Mental Health Monday! In the midst of all
the chaos of our world right now, I wanted to give some time to one of my
favorite coping skills—mindfulness. We all have moments of mindfulness in our lives, sometimes when we don’t realize that is what we are doing. There are so many elements that can make up a practice of mindfulness, but it can also be very simple. Please understand that the purpose of mindfulness is not to be overly self-focused or self-absorbed; it is about taking a few moments to calm the chaos and focus in the moment. This helps lead to greater focus on the tasks at hand and the others around us. We need to remember that we can’t pour from an empty cup when we are trying to be who the others in our lives need us to be.A few simple mindfulness exercises that I use in my own life are mindful breathing, progressive relaxation, and five senses focus. There are several ways to go about each one, but here is an easy example of each:


Mindful breathing: Sit in a comfortable and neutral
position (some people do this lying down—if I attempt that, I will generally
fall asleep! 😊 ) Close your eyes. Take in a deep breath, filling your lungs and feeling the space created in your abdomen. If I am really struggling to focus, I will count as I inhale. This helps me to focus on my breath rather than anything else around me. Once you have fulling inhaled, pause for a second, feeling the space and fullness of your breath. Then, slowly breathe out, trying to take approximately the same amount of time breathing out
as you did breathing in. Taking even 6-8 breaths this way can help to refocus on the present and calm the chaos.


Progressive relaxation: Again, sit in a comfortable
and neutral position (I’m a little better at doing this one lying down, but
sometimes there is still a little napping!) Beginning with your toes, briefly
tense and scrunch them and then intentionally relax them. Pause to give attention just to your toes and what it takes to relax them. Next, move on to your whole foot—briefly tense and then intentionally relax, noting what it takes to relax your foot. Proceed like this up your legs (calf, knee, thigh), your backside, lower abdomen, middle abdomen, shoulders, upper arm, lower arm, wrist, hand, fingers, neck, jaw, cheeks, eyes and forehead. With intentional focus given to each part of the body in progression, the depth of relaxation will be greater. You can also start with the forehead and proceed downward. However, I find that I hold more tension in my upper body, so I choose to focus above my shoulders last. This is another practice that can be done in just a couple of focused minutes but can really decrease situational stress.


Five senses focus:  Another exercise that can be done anywhere
and in just a few minutes. Wherever you are and whatever you are currently
doing, take a moment to check in with your senses.


·        What do you see around you? We often look but don’t really see. Taking time to look at the details of your surroundings helps to focus you in the present moment.


·  What do you hear? There are so many sounds around us all the time that we think we are blocking out. However, sometimes our brains are working in the background to process them, increasing our tension without us recognizing why. Taking time to acknowledge those sounds for a moment lets your brain process and then (hopefully) move on from them.


·        What do you smell? Strong smells, both good and bad, rarely escape our notice. However, there are usually several smells happening all at once. We just process the strongest. Take a moment to process all that you can smell where you are at that moment.


·       What are you touching? Not just the things you are actively touching, but what about passive touch? Your clothes, where you are sitting, the floor, the air around you—all of those things are touching you and giving sensory input to your brain. Focus on each for a moment and let it process.


·     What do you taste? This is one of my favorites! In addition to just loving to eat, taking the time meals are eaten at work or while I’m in the middle of things. Nutrition experts have said for years that this is not the best way to eat—it often leads to overeating because we aren’t thinking about what we are doing. The practice of slowing down to eat mindfully allows us to truly experience what we are eating and helps us to be aware of when it stops tasting as good—an early signal that we are starting to get full. I once led a skills group where we ended each of our sessions with mindfully eating a piece of candy. The candy of choice was chocolate (there are just so many good things about it!!), but we also tried butterscotch, cinnamon (not a favorite for mindful eating!), caramels, and fruit flavored candy. It was fun to take that moment to fully experience each candy for all it could be.


As you look for ways to take small moments to rest and refresh in times of stress, hopefully these few exercises will come to mind, helping you focus on the moment and regroup to keep moving forward.


Thanks for reading! 😊
EW



Sewing, Quilting, & Needlepoint

Originally posted 10/17/2020

As I’m thinking about my grandmother today, I’m thinking of the skills she taught me as I was growing up. She taught me to sew—by hand, on an electric machine, and on her treadle machine. I spent many days sitting on the floor of her sewing room and listening to her stories as she taught me to sew buttonholes (always by hand—she never trusted the buttonhole attachment on her machine), needlepoint on pillowcases, aprons & tablecloths, and watching her hand sew her latest quilt. She made a leaf quilt, making patterns for the leaves using leaves from the trees on their property and matching fabric colors to the colors of the leaves in the fall. I loved watching her work on it. It was a beautiful quilt, and she was so proud of the work she put into it. We made dolls and doll clothes, teddy bears, and clothes both for me and for the young children who lived on their gravel road. As I got older, I helped with the steps more and more, learning to measure, pin & cut patterns, along with becoming more skilled on the machine.

The treadle machine was in the kitchen/dining room of their house during the summer that she taught me to join my sewing skills with some family history. The machine had been at her family’s farm when she was growing up and she had gotten it to keep it in the family as an adult. She told me stories of making clothes for herself and her siblings using that machine as she was teaching me how to use the treadle to keep an even pace. The treadle required more coordination than I had for most things—it proved a huge labor of love and patience on her part to work with me until I got it right. While we continued to do most of our projects on the electric machine, I practiced on the treadle every time I visited. I loved sharing that time and that part of our family history with her.

Grandmom’s favorite phrase as I was learning to sew, which she repeated often was “whatsoever a girl seweth, that she will also rip.” It was her spin on combining Scripture with sewing humor. It made me roll my eyes back then, but I smile as I cherish the memory now. She was so patient with me as she taught me that mistakes could be fixed and that it was important to take the time to do it well.

One of Grandmom’s biggest frustrations with aging was that arthritis slowly took away her ability to quilt, sew, needlepoint, knit & crochet. I regret not taking the time to let her teach me to knit and not giving enough time to truly learn when she was teaching me to crochet. There were always other things to do, and then she wasn’t able to teach anymore. Even though my thoughts of her are bittersweet, I am so thankful for the things she taught me and the memories of the time we spent together.

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Prayer

Originally posted 10/15/2020

The topic of prayer has been coming up over and over in the past few weeks in my daily devotions, in conversations I’m having, and even on social media. It is a huge topic—and will likely cover a number of posts to discuss the when, how, why, and what of prayer. A few days ago, I tuned into a virtual women’s conference only to find that the topic was prayer. I have a pass to another virtual event on prayer to watch within the next month. Emails and social media posts from churches are focused on prayer. With everything going on in the world, many are looking at prayer with a new perspective. With churches going online only for several weeks (and some still more online than in person), personal prayer has come to the forefront. We don’t have as many venues for corporate prayer when we aren’t in church services and don’t have Bible studies, small groups, or prayer meetings to attend. We have had to get personal with prayer, stretching spiritual muscles that many of us haven’t used as regularly as we might be willing to admit—and that is a good thing!

Prayer has always been a favorite spiritual discipline of mine. It is definitely a discipline, and it takes practice. While there is no right or wrong way to pray, being truly vulnerably, transparent and open with God in prayer is something that takes time to do well and be comfortable with. Vulnerability comes more easily when things are difficult—hurt, hardship, pain, and overwhelm can often be poured out to God in words, tears, and groans that He hears and understands. But what about prayer in the day to day? Praying when things are going well, or even just ok, can feel awkward, and often less important than talking with God about the big, hard, awful stuff of life. Does God really care about the day to day? Are the ins and outs of my life important enough to bring to Him?

Yes, they are. The God of all creation knit you together in your mother’s womb. He knows the number of your days, the hairs on your head, and every thought you will ever think before you think it. He is all about the day to day. He is as with us in the small stuff as He is in the monumental moments. Prayer is a conversation. Just as you would call or text your closest friend when something comes to mind—big, small, good, bad, or even something that only the two of you will understand and relate to—God is there in that same way. When we talk to our closest friends, we spend less time making sure that our specific words and phrases are perfect. We just know that they understand. They get us, and we know it. In that same way, prayer doesn’t have to be elaborate. The specific phrases and words are less important than the reality of our heart.

In later posts, I will share more about specifics of prayer—Scriptures, strategies, journals, and resources that I can share. I am excited to dig deeper into all that prayer is and how valuable it is in growing our relationship with God. I hope you will join me!

Until then…thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Vigilance Fatigue

Originally posted 10/12/2020

Welcome back to Mental Health Monday. I am tired. 2020 has been more than anyone could ever have imagined on every possible level. Health and safety concerns are a daily topic of discussion, politics are divisive, those who I love and respect on all sides of every issue are speaking and behaving in ways that seem out of character. I know I am not alone in this. As a society, a culture, a world—we are all exhausted. Our endurance has been tested time and again, and many of us have had our fill of trials that some call character building. We are working hard to be vigilant as citizens, and vigilance has made us tired. We are out of adrenaline for it.

The adrenaline-based fight or flight response is supposed to be a short-term response to intense situational stress—not a long-term state of being. We can’t exist indefinitely in a survival state without running out of energy. Many of us who were trying new recipes, picking up new hobbies, and going deep with cleaning and organizing early in the year have run out of steam. It feels like thousands of meals have been cooked, new hobbies are difficult to focus on, and any remaining closets can stay cluttered—the motivation is gone.

Many people are getting from day to day by the sheer routine of it. Routine can be a normalizer in the midst of chaos. However, our routines look different. Work-life balance has taken on different meaning as many are trying to work, parent, teach, and maintain their homes at the same time and from the same space. There is no separation. As a working parent with children who have moved away from home during this time, my work-life balance is more distant. I support my adult children via text and video chat, providing the best reassurance I can from a distance. We are a family who thrives on hugs, and that is not an option when we need it most. The huggers of the world struggle in this time of social distancing. Air hugs and elbow bumps are not the same, especially with those we love who are not a part of our household. My son is in Chicago—a town that requires a 14-day quarantine for anyone coming from our home state. My mom, who is grieving the loss of her mom, is in the higher risk category. I have too much exposure through my job for it to be safe to possibly pass germs to her—and cases continue to rise where she is.

How do we combat this time in our lives? There is no easy answer. I am so thankful for technology that allows calling, texting, and video chats during our time of distance. It is not exactly what we want, but it is a step in the right direction. I can see my kids’ faces and know that they are there and are hanging in there. I see my dear friends in my driveway, enjoying a drink around the fire pit and some much-needed conversation. I try to be patient with myself and with others, understanding that there will be ups and downs in emotions, productivity, and focus. I do my best to take the opportunity to speak life into others, ensuring that they are seen and heard in the midst of the distance. There is comfort in knowing that the feelings that we are having are normal, and even expected at this time.

We might be done with the chaos of 2020, but it is not done with us. With patience and grace, we will make it through—and we will have stories to tell and lessons learned, whether we want them or not!

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Peace

Originally posted 10/11/20

Psalm 4

1 Answer me when I call to you,

    my righteous God.

Give me relief from my distress;

    have mercy on me and hear my prayer.

2 How long will you people turn my glory into shame?

    How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?

3 Know that the Lord has set apart his faithful servant for himself;

    the Lord hears when I call to him.

4 Tremble and do not sin;

    when you are on your beds,

    search your hearts and be silent.

5 Offer the sacrifices of the righteous

    and trust in the Lord.

6 Many, Lord, are asking, “Who will bring us prosperity?”

    Let the light of your face shine on us.

7 Fill my heart with joy

    when their grain and new wine abound.

8 In peace I will lie down and sleep,

    for you alone, Lord,

    make me dwell in safety.

In April, 2018 my grandmother was in the hospital. She had broken her hip and needed surgery to repair it. Trauma, pain, and pain medication do not mix with dementia well—particularly with the added elements of a different place, different staff, and a very different routine. My grandmother spent the majority of those days very confused, and the nights were worse. After spending 36 hours at the hospital, a sweet nurse encouraged me to leave for the night and try to get some rest. I asked that she call if there were any issues and left with my mom—hoping to sleep at her house for the night. About 15 minutes after my mom and I got to her house, we got the call that my grandmother was confused and agitated. When darkness hit, she believed that she had been kidnapped and was being held in a basement by her kidnappers. I made my way back to the hospital to sit with her again.

She was agitated and scared when I got there, not remembering her surgery, not understanding why she was there, seeing things on her walls and in the corners of her room (thanks to the Morphine she had been given), and not recognizing me. I sat down, took her hand, and tried to soothe her. After what seemed like hours of her continued fear and unrest, I was out of words. Nothing I was saying was bringing her comfort, though she would not let go of my hand. I opened my Bible and quietly began reading Psalms. When I got to Psalm 4, she calmed. I continued repeating it until she fell asleep and then prayed it over her as she slept.

God’s Word brings peace—even when nothing else can. He alone makes us dwell in safety. We have nothing to fear because He is with us. Circumstances and situations can bring feelings of fear, especially as those situations feel like they are closing or leaving us with no way out. He is with us in those feelings as well. He goes before us, beside us and behind us as we walk through those times.

I continued to read Psalm 4 to my grandmother every night I spent with her during that hospital stay and all the others she had in her remaining days. It brought us both peace and memories to cherish.

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Grief and Grieving

Originally posted 10/5/2020

Welcome back to another Mental Health Monday. Today’s topic is grief & grieving. When the phone rings at a time that you typically don’t see, you know that the news can’t be good. This was my Thursday morning. At 4:12AM, my phone rang. As soon as I saw that it was my mother, I knew the news that I was likely to hear. My grandmother had taken a sharp turn toward the end of her life. My mother was on the way to her nursing home to be with her. I was immediately fully awake and was making plans to rearrange the day to head that way as well. At 4:39AM, my phone rang again. It was too late. My grandmother had passed before my mother arrived. We talked for a few minutes, cried, and agreed to talk again after she had finished the business that needed to be done at the nursing home. By the time we spoke again at 6:15AM, it had fully sunk in. My sweet grandmother was gone. And I wasn’t able to be there. Death is hard. Death during a pandemic is even harder. I hadn’t seen my grandmother since a few days after Christmas due to pandemic restrictions. The things put in place in an effort to keep her safe meant that she died alone. I am extremely grateful to the staff of the nursing home who cared for her, loved her, and were there for her when we couldn’t be. They could not have been more amazing in their care, and in keeping my mother informed over the past 7 months. They are superheroes.

Grief is a strange thing. It is a huge mix of emotions that, at times, feel like they shouldn’t be possible at the same time. Crushing sadness and intense celebration should be mutually exclusive, but somehow, they aren’t. Somehow, grieving allows those thoughts and feelings to all happen at once, sometimes with equal intensity.

Words can’t express how thankful I am that she is no longer sick, no longer missing my grandfather and longing for him, no longer confused and sad. I am thankful that she doesn’t need the neck collar that she dutifully wore for 5 years for a neck fracture that her aging bones couldn’t heal. She is well, and I celebrate that! I celebrate the years that I had with her, the memories that we made, the stories that she told, and the lessons I learned from her. I will continue to share those memories and lessons with pride.

Words also can’t express my sadness. There are no more memories to be made, only previous ones to be shared. No more hugs, hands to be held, comfort to give or receive. I wasn’t there, and I so desperately wanted to be. Every time she has been sick for the past 6+ years, I have been there. This time I wasn’t—and I hadn’t been in months. I took time off from work to spend time with her over those years, trying to visit at least monthly to soak up all the time and memories I could. The pandemic had other plans. I didn’t want her to be alone in the final moments of her life—but that wasn’t a choice that I got to make.

Grief is strange. I long to have something to do, some sort of death related business that will bring closure or feel like I’m engaged in the process in some way. That doesn’t really exist. Plans had been made ahead of time, so now we wait until those plans have been carried out. In the midst of the emotions, it is difficult to keep the perspective that death is a regular occurrence—a part of life. The business of death is a fairly smooth operation to those outside of the emotion. I am grateful for those people as well. The business of this would not be smooth if the steps were up to me. In this moment, I am walking in a surreal fog. It feels as though I am out of step with the rest of the world, like I am living in a different reality or that time is moving at a different pace for me than those around me. Clinically, I know that is normal and a part of the grieving process. Personally, it is extremely tough—even as I know that I will get through it.

The emotions of grief—all of them—are real. They are valid. They are to be experienced as they come and for as long as they come. We don’t honor the person who left us by pushing off grief. We honor them by experiencing it, trudging through the good and the bad, and finding ways to be true to the memories, the legacy, and the person in the midst of our grief.

Thanks for reading! EW

World War 2

Originally posted 10/4/2020

Today’s post is a typed version of my grandmother’s writing. Toward the end of my grandfather’s life, when he was struggling to orient to present time and place, he began to talk about his time at war in ways that he hadn’t before. My grandmother wrote at times as he talked and also wrote their story. I am honored beyond measure that she willingly shared her writing with me and am pleased to be able to share it with you:

Like all young men of that time, Fred had to register for the draft at age 18. He had done that in August, 1941. We had been dating only 2 months at that time.

We spent as much time together as we possibly could that summer, fall and into the new year 1942. We were sure that we were meant to be a couple for life. The fact that I was born 9 months after his birth (August 19, 1923-May 19, 1924) was the only proof we needed.

We were married in the Lakehurst Methodist Parsonage on a Friday evening, November 20, 1942 and started our life as a couple in a one room and bath apartment over a garage in Toms River, NJ. The bathroom was small with one end of the tub under the slanting roof and ceiling, the opposite end from the faucets. It seemed that almost every time Fred stood in the tub, it was at that end. I’d hear the thump when his head bumped that low ceiling followed by his self-scolding comment. After a while it became difficult to control my chuckling laughter.

Before getting out of the car at the parsonage, he showed me the mail he had received that day; official “Greetings” from Uncle Sam scheduling him for a first appearance for the draft. Not the best news but we knew it was inevitable.

Basic training took place in Maryland. Later he was sent to Fort Devens, Massachusetts for training in heavy equipment. After a while there, he could receive overnight passes to leave the base. He phones and asked if I would consider traveling to Massachusetts to spend some time with him. Would I?!

I went by train from Lakehurst to Jersey City (the end of the line) crossed the river to New York City by ferry then by train to Boston, then changed to a local train that went through the town close to Fort Devens, my stop. Fred had rented a room at a small local hotel where I stayed for almost a week before returning to Lakehurst. A young woman traveling alone at that time was not unusual and transportation personnel were very helpful, thoughtful and considerate. Most of them were older men, some returning to work filling vacancies left by younger men called into service—very different from today.

At Christmastime the volume of mail was so heavy that post office personnel couldn’t keep up with it. A call went to nearby military bases for volunteer help. Fred volunteered and was sent to the Hartford, Connecticut area and again I was called to join him there. He drove a US Postal vehicle during the day, gathering mail from the drop boxes around the city. After reporting to post office officials at day’s end, he was on a pass until 8am the next day. On December 23rd, he told me that I should plan to return to Lakehurst because his assignment would end on the 24th and so would his daily leaves. So back to Lakehurst I went by train and by bus. I had been home only a short time when he came in the door all smiles! What a wonderful surprise! It seems reports from the local post masters about soldiers’ work ethic earned some 3 day passes, so he was home for the holiday! The perfect Christmas gift.

When his heavy equipment training was completed he returned to Maryland. From there he could spend 2 nights and one full day at home on a 3 day pass, which he did once or twice before the order came for his unit to prepare to leave for a new assignment—which turned out to be overseas to Europe in combat against Germany.

Expectation (a typed piece)

How well I remember Christmas 1945.

V-E Day, Victory in Europe in World War 2 had happened in May. Late in autumn I waited eagerly, as always, for a letter from my husband, hoping for some word that he would soon be coming home. Letters arrived regularly but nothing definite about his return. Until December 9th when word went out that a group of soldiers had arrived from Europe and would be mustered out at Fort Monmouth that afternoon.

I was there when he came down the steps of the Chapel, still in uniform but once more a civilian! Waiting with me to greet his Daddy was our 11-month-old son who he would meet and hold for the first time!

Our Christmas arrived early that year.

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Dog Paws and Mental Health

Originally posted 9/28/2020

Welcome back to Mental Health Monday. Today’s blog is a little bit different. It is inspired by my most recent rescue dog, Trebuchet (Tre for short) Just for a little background, I live in a very animal loving and very weird household (said with love to all who inhabit it 😊 ) We currently have 3 dogs—Beau, Eros & Trebuchet and 2 cats—Katana and Claymore. Yep, that’s how we roll. All of our animals are rescues, and all of them have their own special traits as a result. We lovingly refer to them as our Island of Misfit Pets.

Today’s mental health thoughts come from my morning with Tre. Tre was rescued when he was just under a year old (the vet estimated 10-12 months). We believe that he had been a stray on the streets up until that time. Given his time on his own, he has high survival instincts and low trust. His social development is delayed, and he has very high attention needs. He has adapted pretty well to our crazy home, but there are still moments where it is very clear that he is skeptical of human interaction. The most obvious is when he is hurting in some way.

A few days ago, Tre started paying a lot of attention to one of his paws. I checked it out and saw that he had a small sore. It has continued to grow and develop into something that looked pretty rough this morning, so it was time for a call to the vet. Thanks to the pandemic, the vet only operates by curbside appointment or drop off. A previous injury and attempted nail trim taught us that drop off would be bad—they often result in undue trauma to him and to anyone who attempts to touch him when “his people” are not around. So, curbside it was. Lots of waiting in the car for a few minutes with a vet who advised Epsom salt soaks and a cone. Soaking a dog paw in warm Epsom salt water is a thrilling tale for another time—and he has already managed to Houdini his way out of the cone.

All of this to say, pets have an amazing way of changing our perspective. I woke up this morning semi-grumpy with allergy issues and a sore back from household projects and cleaning that have been done this week. I was planning on the day being one of pajamas, coffee, and doing as little as possible. Then along came Tre, who needed me to be a dog mom when he was hurting. My sore back no longer mattered. I was no longer grumpy. I was outside myself and thinking about his needs rather than my feelings in the moment. It wasn’t that my feelings weren’t valid and important—his needs were just more important. They got me out of my own way.

Sometimes we need to get out of our own way and see things outside ourselves. This doesn’t minimize our feelings; it just gives them a different perspective. The body of research on the positive impact on pets and mental health is significant. I hope to write more about this in future posts. Companionship, acceptance, belonging, and purpose can all come from having pets. Pets are also a fantastic sounding board—they love to listen and won’t give you unsolicited advice! There has been a significant increase in pet adoption during the pandemic. I hope that all the new pet parents will continue to provide good homes as life returns closer to normal. They need us—and we need them too.

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

The Power of Music

Originally posted 9/26/2020

I have always been very focused on music. I started singing in my church choir when I was in third grade, and I continued singing at school and church through college and into adulthood. Worship times at summer camp, singing choruses with my peers were moments of true beauty. Singing hymns, Requiem masses, and other sacred music with my choirs in high school and college brought me chills.

When my kids were born, I was continuously singing to, then with them. We have jokingly said time and again that we live in a musical. Songs were the easiest way to teach Scripture verses, the books of the Bible, and elements of God’s character—thanks to both VeggieTales and Bible Songs tapes & CDs. If they were asked, my kids would probably both say that they remember more songs than spoken memory verses. While I will grant that one must dig below the surface to find the positive life lesson in “I Love My Lips” or “Where is My Hairbrush?”, it is there and it is important. God’s character is evident in the silly life lessons as much as the serious.

My deepest interactions with God have often involved songs, whether listening to praise music, singing in the shower, or worshiping at church, it is not uncommon for me to be overwhelmed to tears. Music reminds me how big, how good, how powerful, and how merciful God is, even when I’m struggling to hear Him in other ways. In the most difficult seasons of my life, I have relied on music for those reminders. God is my refuge & strength, He makes me brave, He is a good, good Father, my soul longs for Him, and He loves me. The connection with music has often encouraged me to search Scripture for the verses in the songs I love. My time in prayer is often deepened by music as well. Sometimes songs say what I can’t put into words.

Now that I travel so much for work (pre-pandemic more than currently, of course), taking my drive time for worship, prayer, and a reminder of God’s sovereignty in the midst of the chaos of life helps me to keep my focus on Him rather than the difficulties of day to day life and work. I find myself thankful for the drive time rather than dreading it because it gives me time to connect with Him.

If you are feeling distant from God, struggling to connect with Him or understand what He has for you, try music. Some of my favorites are Casting Crowns, Mercy Me, Hillsong, Meredith Andrews, and Lauren Daigle. Skillet, Newsboys, Third Day, Kutless & Switchfoot are also good. Whatever you listen to, listen for the lyrics…listen for God’s voice.

Thanks for reading! 😊 EW

Trust

Originally posted 9/22/2020

When we look at the topic of trust, especially in how trust
relates to faith, we often have more questions than answers. What is trust?
What does it look like? How do we grow in trust? How do we know we are trusting
in the right things? What are the right things to trust in? Today, my hope is
to look through Scripture and try to put together some answers.


According to Dictionary.com, trust is “reliance on the
integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence”


When we look at trust we are talking about integrity,
strength, ability…having confidence in someone or something that displays these
traits. To get through day to day life, we have to trust in things: If I am
walking across a bridge, I need to be able to trust that it won’t fall around
me. When I am rappelling, I need to trust that my gear won’t drop me. When I am
using my GPS, I have to trust that it will get me where I need to go. For those
things, trust often comes with perception and previous experience. However,
when we encounter a situation where our perception is inaccurate or our
previous experience has been disappointing or traumatic, trust can be lost. The
integrity of the object of our trust is so important to our confidence. To be
trusted, one must be trustworthy. Trust, once lost, is difficult to regain for
this reason.


Psalm 119:41-42 “May your unfailing love
come to me, Lord, your salvation, according to your promise; then I can answer
anyone who taunts me, for I trust in your word.” (NIV)


Psalm 52:8b “I trust in God’s unfailing
love for ever and ever.” (NIV)


Trust is not a human construct—it is a command and a sign of
obedience to God. When we apply human terms to the concept of trust, we will be
let down. Fellow humans, and those things constructed by humans, even in the
best of circumstances, are flawed. Our perceptions and discernment are also
flawed. That makes for a tough combination when it comes to trust.


Isaiah 26:4 “Trust in the Lord forever, for
the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal.” (NIV)


Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all
your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to
him, and he will make your paths straight.” (NIV)


Psalm 37:3 “Trust in the Lord and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.” (NIV)


Trusting in God doesn’t mean that life will be easy.
Straight paths aren’t guaranteed to be smooth and without difficulty. When we
trust God, we are trusting His character, His strength, His integrity. We trust
that he wants the best for us and will see us through any and all
circumstances. We trust that we can rely on Him even when things aren’t going
how we want.


God will put people in our lives to walk through those
circumstances with us. Those people are human, and they are flawed. We are
human, and we are flawed. When we trust people, we have to do so with the
understanding that both our trust and their trustworthiness is imperfect.
Trusting people cannot be the same as trusting in God. It has taken me a long
time to understand the difference, and that has been the source of hurt in my
life at times. I am not good at trust, but I am learning. With God’s perfect help,
I am a work in progress.


Thanks for reading! 😊 EW