We parent’s do have our memories, many of which are beyond the wealth of gold. They keep blessing us as we think of them. I recall today one of our three sons, at age four, asking if he could go down to the ditch to float his boats. I told him “no.”  His older brother was not there to go with him, and I could not.

He looked up. With eyes filling with tears and a quivering lip he said, “Mamma, you have a horn on your heart!”

I swept him up in my arms, danced him around with laughter and we both were touched by love. That was a lot of years back. Today this son has children of his own and fully understands why at times I told him “no.”

This is the way it is between us and God. We cannot know or understand His ways. He is so much more knowledgeable than we can be. Apostle Paul described looking at our “todays” with all that is happening in the here and now, as seeing indistinctly, “through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Have you had the experience of asking God for something you felt must happen? Then, deciding after waiting and waiting that He must be saying “no?”

God always answers. It is either “yes,” “no,” or “wait”—not a verbal answer, for the way we learn to hear Him speak into our lives comes by faith. With time and experience, we learn to trust. God does know best.

How tragic life would be if God were to say “yes,” just to please us – to guarantee our friendship. Imagine Him granting that which could work against our happiness? A coddling, permissive God would offer no stability, no order, no safety.

Many billions of people have placed their trust in God throughout the history of time. Those who write about it say the same thing in different words: peace, love and joy result from this trust. In fact the peace that comes “surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:6-7). Also, within this trust comes the knowledge that this life here on terra firma is not all that is in store for us—eternity will be our future home.

God wants us to put our trust in Him, while also knowing sometimes what we ask for in life is not granted. Now, with the global pandemic, there is more uncertainty than ever in our lives. Yet, peace comes in knowing God is with us and will not leave us to figure out the future on our own. Asking for daily guidance is one of the greatest of all prayers.

It does take trust to turn our lives over, making it our habit to be enriched by God’s presence, finding inspiring guidance through reading about His will within Holy Writ. Yet, it brings riches of heart and soul far beyond any other way of living. Instead of being temporary and deadly, like alcohol, it is life giving and healing—to say the very least, here.

Ours is a dependable Father who came to us in Christ. One who has set forth some rules. His “yes” is “yes.”  And his “no,” is “no.”  Yet in His love, He does not force us to obey. Always we have choice.

At times we go our own way. We rebel against God. Wanting our own way, we plunge in head first only to find shallow waters. It is a loving Father who binds our wounds, bidding us to rest while He heals us.

Other times we say we will “live the life of faith,” yet our hearts lag far behind. “Lip service,” it is called, and hypocrisy. Before long we are tested and the “Pharisee” within comes to light. (A part of us that can act religious, while being self-centered and unloving.) None of us want to own this fellow. But there he or she is, big as life, at times. What could be less childlike than a pompous Pharisee?

Jesus said, “I assure you, unless you change and become like little children you will not enter the Kingdom of God.”

Childlike. Absolutely honest . . . close abiding . . . dependent on the Father . . . not hesitating to spill tears of disappointment, frustration, anger. Cleansed of hostility, room is made for Truth. Touched by His love, the “dance” begins. Oh, the joy of growing in trust of the Father—knowing He cares. In the midst of all, God understands our needs and is listening to our prayers. Our part is to watch and wait, trusting, as He leads us through our difficulties and uncertainties.

Why do we fear becoming childlike? What does it take for us to trust God enough to be so vulnerable, as to depend on Him? Is it possible to be free of all forms of deception, bringing absolute honesty to our relationships? How can one trust so totally after years of being “adult?”

David, king of Israel in Psalm 131:1-2, wrote of his childlike trust: “Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor my eyes lofty. Neither do I concern myself with great matters, nor with things too profound for me. Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with his mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

Surely we have our moments of perverting the rules, making them mean what we want them to mean . . . times of elevating self, becoming “the know-it-all.” But, oh, the pain we can spare ourselves by trusting the Father, following His ways . . . becoming the trusting child.

Perhaps the greatest challenge of all in life is that of walking hand in hand with the Father. A true exercising of one’s faith, yet the most rewarding way to find we are never alone—and always loved.