Today, during my devotions, I spent a lot of time praying. Praying for wisdom, for strength, for others as well as myself. I guess I sort of thought that as soon as I got home, things would get easier. The hectic scurry I'd endured every day for the last month would finally slow down, and I would be able to just relax. But I realized that it was actually the opposite. There are more things to pray about, more reasons to be alert, now than ever before. Not only that I will keep my thoughts on the right track and not get sucked into the world's pressures and standards, but for my friends, for decisions to be made, for strength for the daily struggle of sticking to my convictions.
As all these different cares and concerns were clouding my mind, I looked out the window. At first, all I saw was a blue sky, the big tree directly across from me, and an old dilapidated gate. Then, a big bird came soaring over the tip of the tree.
Trust in me, God seemed to whisper.
That bird trusts me. As if to make His point, the bird circled effortlessly around the tree a couple more times, and then flew off into the distance.
I stopped praying for my problems. I began to ask that God would help me surrender my problems to Him, to trust Him like the birds did. It's a simple object lesson, but there was something compelling about seeing it tangibly, right in my own front yard. The birds trust Him, so why can't I?
"Let the language of each soul be, He is my Saviour, He died for me, and I hang my helpless soul upon Him. He is able to keep that which I have committed to His trust, against that day. This is the precious lesson that I am learning today, to do the very best I can according to the best light that shines upon my pathway, and then trust the rest to Jesus." (The Signs of the Times, September 15, 1887)
