Trust Me.

There’s a new thing I enjoy doing outside now – mowing the lawn. Before, I probably never cut grass more times than can be counted on both hands. But after my coworker continuously raved about her love for it and the peaceful opportunity it is to commune with God, I thought to give it a try. Yesterday was my second cut, and I was doing much better than the first recommencement in which I needed a friend to come start the lawnmower for me (don’t judge me). He's a good teacher, so now I know all that’s necessary to do it myself and make it look nice.

I prepared my earbuds and rolled through various worship sets as I sang and hummed offkey. I came to a point I needed to refuel, so I marched through our backyard to the other side of the house to retrieve the gas can. Out of range, my earbuds disconnected until I could get back to my nearly drained phone I had plugged up in the car. I thought I'd hear the last selection from my YouTube playlist when I hit the button, except I didn't. Instead, my phone played the last song I had listened to from my downloads – Words by Sho Baraka.

It's a beautiful song – the story of a piece of his life. And as it played on repeat, I realized it was the struggle of your story and mine too. The challenge to trust God with our stories. Here’s a snippet of the lyrics:

All I wanted was a perfect life

Some perfect kids and a perfect wife

Some perfect days and some perfect nights

Even though I'm flawed, I should be alright

A child with special needs didn't fit in my plans

I'm a needy man, wanting more than what you put in his hands

All I wanted was a perfect family core

Now I'm envying the family next door

Trying not to trust therapy more than God

I am walking the street where fear and love collide

Numerous thoughts ran through my mind. It wasn’t that I expected every detail and scene of my life to be perfect, but the ending of every act I suppose I did. And I had my own version of therapy that I thought could fix it if Jesus didn’t. After my marriage collapsed, I held onto dreams loosely. I just wished I could completely release my hope for them to come true instead of monitoring them for possibility at arm’s length.

It was clear God was making the same statement He had made to me months ago and many times before: “Trust Me.”

We trust in a lot of things and people, don’t we? Bank accounts and 401ks. Affiliations. Appearances. Labels. Man’s logic. The degrees and alphabets after our names. That lover who said the last time was the last time but this time they’ll be faithful.

So here I was staring at a seed in my hand that looked like the hidden desires of my heart. Did I whisper or shout them out loud because I can’t figure out if I’m holding a tree from God or a tare from the enemy? The only instruction I’m getting is to bury it.

But God burying it feels like death. Finality. I’m willing, but if I’m honest I don’t want to. In fact, I’m slow-burning with thoughts of unfairness within.

Unlike Sho, I kept my mouth shut though words ricocheted internally like echoes in a tunnel. It feels like the carrot for the horse. I’m going to move you. But it’s my discretion whether you get the carrot or not.

I think I bury my dream. The problem is I have a shovel and keep digging it up. I’m grappling with how to leave it in the ground. All the while I’m twiddling my thumbs, I’m burying the gifts God’s given me that could become the dreams He has for me instead. Selah.

I’m left with questions I dare not answer foolishly: Do I think my dreams and desires for me are better than the ones from God? Do I know best or does He? Can He foretell the future or can I? Do I define what’s good or is He good in the absence of the good I want?

I realize I don’t need clarity. God’s directives are perfect and good for me. What I need is grace to trust completely. Trust that doesn’t consent with head nods and slightly parted lips. But trust that moves feet.

God give me grace.

What’s your “perfect”? What’s your “therapy” you think will get you the version of the story you want? How is God asking you to trust Him with your seed of dreams?