The way of trust

“The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some predetermined, clearly delineated plan for the future.” – Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

I read this quote yesterday evening, from a friend’s Facebook post, that was from this blog post.  Oh social media.  Whatever, it spoke to my soul and it was what I needed.

I’m such a planner.  I’m a J on the MBTI, which means that I feel more comfortable with having plans, structure, clear expectations.  I find such comfort and security in my plans or in knowing others’ expectations, in knowing what’s to come in the next day, week, month, year, or knowing what others expect of me and what I can expect of them.

I long for more stability in my life.  I’ve moved every year of my life for the past 10 years.  I just want to know where I’ll live for more than a year, what job I’ll have, who I’ll be with.  I compare myself to my friends and coworkers who have that security, who have permanent jobs, who have marriage partners, who own homes, who have big things they can rely on day after day to be there for them.

But having those plans and security is not the way of trust.  Trust can only happen when things are unknown, ambiguous, uncertain.  And sometimes scary as hell.  But that’s the very definition of faith, “the conviction of things not seen.”  Faith and trust cannot exist when things are 100% tangible and certain, they can only exist because of the unseen.  “Lean into the discomfort, lean into the ambiguity,” my supervisors often say.  I’m being challenged to do that repeatedly, to be in that ambiguous, uncertain space and to somehow rest in it and somehow trust the God that intellectually and sometimes in my heart I know loves me.  There is security and there is trust, but it’s not my plans.  And I’ve seen over and over again things turning out very differently but better than I could have imagined.  I’ve learned humility to recognize that I often don’t know what’s best for me.  That when I want something and don’t get it, that I often get something better instead, something that I didn’t even know I needed.

So this uncertainty smooths out the path for ruthless trust.  For humility.  For growth.  For learning how to truly be present, to make the most of my life now, to use the opportunities I’ve given now, instead of missing something from the past or waiting for something in the future.  Not that I like it right now.  Right now, I just want to be wrapped in security, in my plans, in knowing that my desires will be fulfilled.  But I know this uncertainty is good and I have moments where it even excites me.  In the past couple of years, I often think about something I wrote about 2 1/2 years ago –

“Screw my plans. I put too much stock and security in them. I’ll make my plans and carry some of them out, but I still want to remain completely open to getting knocked up. I want to be open to whatever God brings into my life without my planning, be it a new opportunity, job, career, ministry, relationship, whatever those things are that could tear into my life, assaulting my carefully made plans in such a way that my life course is so radically different than what I anticipated, but better, stronger, more rewarding than anything my boring head could have dreamed up.

So go ahead, knock me up! I’ll probably start kicking and screaming and try to run in the other direction when you do, but maybe I’ll remember writing this post and it will help me to surrender.”

Ok, so there’s some violent language in what I wrote, but I think it captures the ruthless trust that I had when I wrote it, and the kind of trust that I need to have now.  The openness to receive what’s next, what’s in a year, in 5 years, without knowing what it will be, but trusting that it will be good and maybe even great.