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…
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.