Maybe I’m a bit naïve.
(Hey, that’s better than cynical, right?)

Maybe I find the risk of trusting lower than the cost of suspecting.
Anyway, such is certainly the case if you’re my friend...

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Yes I can. And if I trust you, I won’t even ask what it is first. If it lies within my power (or anywhere near it) I want to serve you.

My girls are trusted. And by reflex I almost always answer them one way when asked:
     “Hey, can you…”
            “Anything for you, dear.”

Little words so often spoken they are almost playthings.
But one morning they strike me as carrying with them two powerful implications–

I trust you not to ask of me something I can’t give.
And I love you. So what I can give, is yours.

–  –  –  –  –

You’ve probably heard it said that it is a struggle to stand. That to live is to fight…
Truth.
But I have wondered of late, if the agony of being torn between two opinions, one the violation of conscience, and the other the perceived violation of my rights to myself, isn’t a war I myself too often drag out long after it might have been won.

I wonder that when I look at the cross, see my Friend bleeding.
Hear Him whisper “Abba;” receive no reply.
I wonder because He’s the embodiment of Love. And what could be more trustworthy?

And I say I trust Him not to ask of me anything I can’t give.
And I love Him. So what I can give, is His…

So why doesn’t every morning start with
“Anything for You…”?

I don’t know. But this morning did.

–  –  –  –  –

We rein in after the eighth mile, and I’m satisfied.
Satisfied that my new pre-run stretching routine is worth more than an extra month of training.
Satisfied that if you’re going to have a good run, you need a good start.

And the best start is falling on my face before sunrise, telling Him in no uncertain terms:

I don’t know what You’ll ask of me today. 
What You’ll ask me to surrender. 
What You’ll ask me to make right. 

But whatever it is, the answer is yes.