“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.” — Proverbs 3:5
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” — Psalm 56:3
Our lives begin with trust, but it isn’t long before experiences teach us that blind trust can hurt us. We withdraw. We become cynical. We question acts and motives. So, how do we react when God says to us, “Trust me”?
On the face of it, trust sounds simple … until we’re actually asked to practice it. On one level, we like trust as an idea. Practically speaking, however, we struggle with making trust a practice.
Trust means releasing our grip on outcomes. It means letting go of our desire for control. It means moving forward or staying still without having all the details.
And perhaps the hardest part: Trust means that God gets to be God… and we don’t.
When life feels suspended between “what was” and “what will be,” the Spirit often nudges us toward something surprisingly small and profoundly difficult. Ponder trust. Ponder whether “trust” is just a word in your vocabulary or whether you are really willing to make it your reality.
Not certainty. Not direction. Not answers. Just trust. Not trust in anything or anyone: trust in God.
Trust becomes its own kind of meditation: a quiet surrender, a steady breath, a resting of our full weight on the One who knows the way when we don’t.
Contrary to the way we tend to think about what trust means for us, trust in God isn’t passive. Trust isn’t resignation to whatever comes our way. But it is an active decision to believe that God is already present in what confuses us, already working in what worries us, and already holding what we cannot yet name.
Trust is the courage to stand on ground we cannot fully see,
believing the path will rise to meet us. God is moving ahead of us, God is preparing the next step. God is faithful in ways hidden from our sight.
Trust is the bridge between where we stand and where God is leading. And though trust doesn’t always give us clarity, it always gives us God.
Trust isn’t the absence of courage; it’s the ultimate act of courage. Trust isn’t blind; it’s the intentional act to lean on the One who promises us that there is purpose and meaning even when we are too lost in the darkness to see it.
We are find ourselves in places where trust feels difficult. Waiting seasons. Unknown circumstances. But what if we came at it from a new and different angle.
You don’t need to fix it. You don’t need to fill in the blanks. Instead,
name it before God. Release control—just for today. Then do it again tomorrow. Let trust be the quiet refrain of your day.
Prayer: Lord, teach me the holy work of trust. Help me to release what I can’t control and rest in the assurance of your love. Where I am anxious, be my peace. Where I am uncertain, be my guide. Where I cannot see the way forward, hold me close and lead me. May trust in you become my prayer, my practice, and my path today. Amen.
