The other day I heard a friend’s testimony about a time in her life, many years ago, when God stopped her from making a terrible mistake. He rescued her from making decisions motivated by fear. He revealed Himself to her in an undeniable way that changed the course of her life, sparing her a lifetime of pain and regret. Her eyes sparkled with gratitude as she spoke to me across the table, praising God for stepping in way back then.
I listened quietly, realizing how similar and how different our testimonies are. She and I were opposing sides of the same coin. When I was in the same situation, many years ago, God didn’t rescue me, at least not in the obvious undeniable way He’d done for her. When I look back, I can recall other, very subtle things that might have been God trying to get my attention, but nothing compared with the spiritual jolt my friend had experienced. For whatever reason, He allowed me to make a horrible decision that sent me into a suffocating darkness for many years to follow.
So, I’ve wrestled with this.
My spirit whispers, Why, God? My heart tightens. Why did you show up for her and not for me? I remember that day when I prayed a desperate prayer, for you to show up in a clear and loud way. ‘What should I do, God? Give me a sign’, I’d begged that day. I got silence. My friend wasn’t even praying and heard your present voice, tangible in the room, describing it in a way that I have never heard you speak to me. Why was she spared, left whole but I have a void, a crater in my soul?
And while the question hangs, suspended in the quiet of this morning, I know why.
Her ears were open. At that crucial time, her heart was so much closer to God that she could hear his voice. He spoke to her because He knew it would move her to put her trust in Him. I was in a very different place than her back then. My head and heart were worlds away from Jesus. I could have opened my eyes that day, after that prayer and not seen the dirty bathroom stall around me, but seen Jesus himself standing there, arms outstretched ready to lead me out of the coming horror and I wouldn’t have been swayed.
God didn’t let me down. I let Him down. That day and so many days after, I broke His heart while I was breaking my own, trusting in my own power and not His. Since that time, God has offered me so much grace. He has overwhelmed me with compassion and drawn me close to Him with a love I find impossible to describe. His love has filled deep holes and smoothed jagged edges left by the world I was drowning myself in. It makes me so whole, so full, and so healed. It’s more important to me than air.
So I trust Him for allowing my every mistake to unfold. I trust it all happened for my eventual benefit. I trust this was the only way to rescue me in the long run. If it all brought me crashing down to the feet of my precious Jesus, then I am grateful for every heartache it took to get me here. It’s the TRUST that brings the peace. The trust is the key to all of it.
So let it go, my soul, and trust in Him. The waves and the wind still know His name. It is well with me.