A Different Kind of Trust


I stabbed the unsterilized pin into my thumb, then squeezed it until I was rewarded with a small blob of blood. With a scrunched face and a small squeal, my girlfriend followed suit.

We triumphantly held up our bloodied thumbs, then pressed them together. We were blood sisters forever!


As an adult, I cringe at the memory of the unsterilized pin and the possible exchange of viruses or whatever else we could have contracted that day. But we were only eight and we’d seen a similar blood ceremony in a movie. That day, however, was the start of a long sisterhood and a close bond that lasted through making forts behind sofas to giggling about boyfriends in high school. We trusted each other implicitly and would never have knowingly hurt each other. We would have sacrificed a hundred date nights than to have stood idly by watching pain enter each other’s lives.

I’ve since discovered even more of a trusting and protective relationship between my husband and I. Our soul aim within our relationship is to try and make each other happy and secure.

But yesterday I was reminded of the most important relationship of my life. I strode into my friend’s hospital room, and was greeted by the radiant smile of my sister in God. She had been in and out of the hospital for years with infections due to circulatory problems. Last year after a few toes had been amputated on her left foot, she lost her whole foot and ankle. Now she is facing more amputations on her right foot. But through it all, her faith remains strong. Of course there were tears, especially when she told me about her son who hadn’t visited for two years. God promised that there would be problems in this life, but He also promised He would never abandon us, and would always walk through trials with us.

Learning how to trust God through trials takes me back to another story, this time, from my teen years. I worked at a stable in exchange for riding lessons. One horrible night, I smelled smoke in the hallway of the barn. While a few people raced to battle the blaze in the feed room, others ran to evacuate the horses.

One horse refused to budge from his stall. There was smoke funnelling down the hallway and all his senses told him that his stall was the only secure place. I hauled at his halter, but when a thousand pound animal sets its feet against a hundred pound girl, there is no contest. It was only when I covered his eyes with my sweater that he allowed me to lead him through the smoke. When he arrived with the rest of the horses outside the smoky barn and I took off his blindfold, he immediately settled down.

Similarly, we have to relinquish control and walk ahead by blind faith alone at times of trials. When there is pain in our lives, we have to trust that God has a master plan for it all. If we could see our lives from beginning to end, we wouldn’t receive gifts like faith, and hope.

My friends earn my trust by not hurting me or allowing pain to enter my life. However trusting God is a different kind of trust. God isn’t interested in protecting me from all pain – he has a much bigger goal in mind. As a parent, I do understand that to shelter my kids from pain is to not allow them to grow stronger as adults. And unfortunately pain is often God’s tool to increase my faith in Him. Like the blindfolded horse that had to relinquish control to walk through the smoke, I too have to trust that His plan is the best, even if it hurts.

After all, this world isn’t our home, and God isn’t in the business of making us comfortable and happy here. If nothing else, pain is a reminder that I’m not meant to handle life’s trials alone.

Here is my gift to you! If you haven’t heard Laura Story’s song Blessings, you are in for a treat. Have a listen!




5 thoughts on “A Different Kind of Trust

  1. I love that song. And the story behind it, too. The pain of this world is just another reason to look forward to the next. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh! You know more than I do! What is the story behind it?


      • Two years into her marriage, her husband was diagnosed with an aggressive (but noncancerous) brain tumor. “I thought it would all get back to normal. Here’s the road… we’re gonna take a detour. About a year into it, my sister said to me, ‘You know, I think the detour is actually the road.’ It’s been a hard road. We’re learning that when someone is living with chronic illness or disabilities, it’s getting adjusted to a completely new normal….But I can’t say it hasn’t been without joys. We spend an enormous amount of time together. He probably gets so annoyed with me! But how many couples do you hear saying at the end, ‘Man, I wish I’d spent less time with my spouse.’ It’s never that. Spending time with Martin obviously makes me happy, but it makes be a better person. That’s the blessing of it….A lot of my songwriting isn’t an idea or concept that I’ve mastered. It’s something that I need to hear for myself every night. I need to constantly be reminding myself that there is a peace in the storm if we keep our eyes on Jesus…And when I’m writing, I find that what really connects with people is not just reminding them of God’s promises, but how those promises fit into every day life… like losing a job or being diagnosed with an illness. How do we praise God—because He’s worthy of it—when we don’t feel like it?…And I don’t want people to think, ‘Oh, look at what happened to Laura and Martin…’ I think God has a platform for everyone. You know we thought Martin would just have hands laid on him and be healed of all these disabilities and we would travel the country telling about all these healings, but that’s not the story God wants us to tell…And even though it’s not necessarily what I wanted, I can’t argue with the fact that we have come to trust God in a much deeper way….The song shows that we still have more questions than answers. But there’s a decision that I find God is asking us to make. Are we going to judge God based on our circumstances, or are we going to choose to interpret our circumstances based on what we hold to be true about God?”

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m sorry for your friend. That must be very tough on her. I hope her son visits soon. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

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