Sweet Trust

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Trusting Jesus—really trusting Him—is oh, so sweet.

Read Mark 5:35-43

As we’re looking into the last half of Mark chapter five today, we find Jesus at the home of Jairus, a local synagogue leader. In desperation, Jairus had summoned Jesus there because his 12-year-old daughter was deathly ill. However, by the time Jesus arrived, Jairus' daughter was dead. It was at that moment, in the middle of extreme sorrow, that Jesus made an incredible statement. A statement that I will forever cling to.

But Jesus ignored their comments and said to Jairus, Don't be afraid. Just trust Me.  Mark 5:36

And he did. Then this trusting father saw his precious daughter brought back to life. Trusting Jesus. Easy to say. More often, difficult to do. It was never more difficult for me than on March 20, 2000. On that day, “trusting Jesus” took on new meaning.

I had just received a phone call. It was official. The doctors had given my Dad six months to live. I tried to be strong. I tried to have faith. I tried to do laundry. I’d sorted the piles, but all I could do was sit in the middle of them and cry. And cry. Wiping my tears with my sons dirty gym sock, I laughed as I pictured myself.

I heard myself say, What do I do, Lord? Almost just as clearly I heard Him reply. One word. That's all there was. Trust. Trust? I could do that, I thought. And then almost as quickly a little chorus popped into my mind. One I've sung countless times in church. It had an up-tempo beat, and a “sweet” message. But it was that one word that was my undoing. “Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.” I almost screamed.

Don't get me wrong. I trusted in Jesus. With all of my being I trusted in Him.  But to describe trust with such a shallow, syrupy doesn’t-even-scratch-the-surface-of-emotions, sugar-overloaded word almost gave me a toothache.

How would I describe my trust in Jesus, at that exact moment? Desperate? Yes, I desperately trusted in Him. Broken? I was definitely that. Broken and leaking all over my son's dirty sock. Panicked? Well, that may be taking it to an extreme. But, yes, I felt extreme that day. Angry? Can a person be angry at Jesus while trusting in Him? Am I allowed to feel ticked off at the same One Who also has my trust… my life… my Dad's life? I think so. I hope so. I was.

As my emotions raced and spun and ran into each other like out of control bumper cars, I sensed that firm, quiet foundation. My gentle reminder. Trust.  Trust in Jesus. Why do I trust Him? Because I know Him. He is closer to me than any other. He is my Confidant, my Counselor, my Comforter. And I trust Him. That one word is what calms me, sustains me. One word… yet so much more.

Solid trust. Unbending trust. Unmoving trust. All-encompassing trust.  Life-giving trust. Life-sustaining trust. Mighty trust. Powerful trust. Deep trust.  Comforting trust. Quiet trust. Peaceful trust. Sweet trust. 

What kind of trust? Sweet trust. Yes, I said it. And maybe I'm finally beginning to understand what the composer meant by “sweet.” Not sticky, glucose-high-out-of-touch-with-reality sweet. No, this is sweet in its purest form. No additives or preservatives. Heartfelt sweet. It’s a calm, comforting, peace-radiating, warm-you-to-the-core, kind of sweet. An Arms-of-grace-and-mercy holding me tight sweet. An enduring, smiling-through-my-tears because of His Presence sweet. A never, ever, EVER letting me go sweet. 

And in the middle of all of the other emotions that raged and stampeded across my heart, there was one thing I now knew for sure. 

Trusting Him, really trusting Jesus, absolutely is… so sweet.

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