About Trust
Okay...I was sitting here ready to blog, when Annaleigh dropped a package of crackers. I leaned over to pick it up because Wesley (our Maltese) was there, and I didn't want him to get them, and long story short, I fell off my chair. HA!! :-) Didn't I just write on about a bald woman bouncin'? Such grace.
Now. Reflections on trust.
Yesterday, at swimming lessons, the instructor was attempting to get Annaleigh to push off the steps and into her outstretched hands. The only way Annaleigh would consider this is if she was actually touching the teacher's fingers. Later, when she was practicing with me, she was willing to take the leap. She was so excited to show Teacher Jackie, who happily reflected: "You're learning to trust!"
Later that evening, Annaleigh was wanting to pick up Mikey, another one of our Maltese. She had already held him once, and I wanted Mikey to relax and not get stressed, because he can be a little unpredictable. Annaleigh's response to my refusal? "Mom, just trust me!" (How quickly they learn!) I tried to explain to her, while fighting back visions of teenage years to come, that I did trust HER. It was Mikey I did not trust and I did not want her to get bitten.
I appreciate the comparison of the these two situations. Like the first, we are often in situations, such as cancer, where our growth and progress will only be accomplished if we "push off", trusting that God's hands will catch us and support us. For Annaleigh, she was scared just standing on the stairs in the pool. To be asked to use her legs to push into water with no bottom (for her), was unthinkable.
It is rather like hearing one's lump is malignant. At that moment, we know we are in over our heads, and are being asked to move further into the depths that lay before us. It's scary. But if we allow fear to paralyze us, we'll never accomplish the growth inherent in the situation. As well, like Annaleigh, only we "push off the wall" and grasp our Instructor's hands, are we truly protected from the danger of the circumstances. When we are holding His hands is when we are most secure, and His feet do touch the bottom.
In contrast, I also appreciate the lesson in Annaleigh's mis-use of the idea of trust. The fact that she was ignoring and arguing with my warnings was annoying and tried my patience. Yet, I am guilty of the same---presuming that I am in charge of the consequences...that I am in control, when in fact, I could easily be bitten because I am ignoring either common sense or clear warnings.
When comparing both ideas of trust, I appreciate that cancer is not a "consequence" but an opportunity to trust. Even so, cancer does have a "bite." So does death. But even then, Jesus has provided in such a way that death itself is more of a "pushing off the side" into our Instructor's Hands, rather than a drowning. I am blessed in that my cancer situation has not "bitten" very hard. My experience has been one of getting several opportunities to see that if I don't let fear paralyze me, He is always there, whether through His word, or through His people, and most often both.
I know I will be just like Annaleigh, and face lots of choices in the future where I will need to carefully consider if I am "pushing the envelope" in the name of trust, or "pushing off in faith." It is not always clear. Fortunately, in God's grace, I think God is there in both situations, just like I would be for Annaleigh should she ever get hurt. I just hope that for both Annaleigh and myself, that there are more situations where we hear the words, "Great job--you're learning to trust!"
Now. Reflections on trust.
Yesterday, at swimming lessons, the instructor was attempting to get Annaleigh to push off the steps and into her outstretched hands. The only way Annaleigh would consider this is if she was actually touching the teacher's fingers. Later, when she was practicing with me, she was willing to take the leap. She was so excited to show Teacher Jackie, who happily reflected: "You're learning to trust!"
Later that evening, Annaleigh was wanting to pick up Mikey, another one of our Maltese. She had already held him once, and I wanted Mikey to relax and not get stressed, because he can be a little unpredictable. Annaleigh's response to my refusal? "Mom, just trust me!" (How quickly they learn!) I tried to explain to her, while fighting back visions of teenage years to come, that I did trust HER. It was Mikey I did not trust and I did not want her to get bitten.
I appreciate the comparison of the these two situations. Like the first, we are often in situations, such as cancer, where our growth and progress will only be accomplished if we "push off", trusting that God's hands will catch us and support us. For Annaleigh, she was scared just standing on the stairs in the pool. To be asked to use her legs to push into water with no bottom (for her), was unthinkable.
It is rather like hearing one's lump is malignant. At that moment, we know we are in over our heads, and are being asked to move further into the depths that lay before us. It's scary. But if we allow fear to paralyze us, we'll never accomplish the growth inherent in the situation. As well, like Annaleigh, only we "push off the wall" and grasp our Instructor's hands, are we truly protected from the danger of the circumstances. When we are holding His hands is when we are most secure, and His feet do touch the bottom.
In contrast, I also appreciate the lesson in Annaleigh's mis-use of the idea of trust. The fact that she was ignoring and arguing with my warnings was annoying and tried my patience. Yet, I am guilty of the same---presuming that I am in charge of the consequences...that I am in control, when in fact, I could easily be bitten because I am ignoring either common sense or clear warnings.
When comparing both ideas of trust, I appreciate that cancer is not a "consequence" but an opportunity to trust. Even so, cancer does have a "bite." So does death. But even then, Jesus has provided in such a way that death itself is more of a "pushing off the side" into our Instructor's Hands, rather than a drowning. I am blessed in that my cancer situation has not "bitten" very hard. My experience has been one of getting several opportunities to see that if I don't let fear paralyze me, He is always there, whether through His word, or through His people, and most often both.
I know I will be just like Annaleigh, and face lots of choices in the future where I will need to carefully consider if I am "pushing the envelope" in the name of trust, or "pushing off in faith." It is not always clear. Fortunately, in God's grace, I think God is there in both situations, just like I would be for Annaleigh should she ever get hurt. I just hope that for both Annaleigh and myself, that there are more situations where we hear the words, "Great job--you're learning to trust!"
posted by Beverly @ 10:33 AM
3 Comments:
At 9:30 PM,
Carisse said…
I really enjoyed this essay. It makes me remember hearing poet William Stafford compare writing to swimming. He said, "You look at the water, and you think, that'll never hold me up. Why, I can put my hand right through it!" He gestured, as if picking up a handful of water and letting it run through his fingers. But he continued, "But swimmers know the trick. They know that if they yield themselves to the water, it will hold them up." Then he smiled a little. "The language is like that. It will hold you up."
Stafford said, writing is finding a way into a process that will let you say what you wouldn't have said otherwise. It is a way of finding what you have to say. If you look at what you've got to work with, words, sounds, you think, that will never hold me up. That can't carry what I want to say, even if I knew for sure what I want to say.
Writing is like swimming, learning to trust the medium itself to provide you the opportunities you have within you to find what you have to say. Sometimes the opportunities lie in the language itself, in its sound, in the way it moves to your ear, in the way saying one thing reminds you of something else to say. You can look at that from the side of the pool and say, "That'll never work." Or you can swim.
At 12:51 PM,
Beverly said…
Carisse,
Thank you! Thank you for reading a long entry...thank you for liking it...thank you for sharing what William Stafford said.
I can truly, honestly identify with Mr. Stafford. All the things you noted in the last paragraph are true for me in this blogging experience. Thank you for putting words to it. I especially find it interesting (and validating) that you shared this here, because I struggled with this entry, trying to find words, the right approach, and what this lesson on trust meant to me. I finally had Mark read it and let it rest, "as is," hoping it made sense to someone else.
Thank you!
At 8:26 PM,
Carisse said…
I'm so glad that my comment encourages you. Stafford is dead now, but as long as I live I will hear his voice and see him in my mind's eye. Plus, he's a very good poet. If you like I can recommend one or two books he did on writing.
Stafford developed the habit of writing when he was incarcerated in a work camp during WWII as a conscientious objector. He was from the Church of the Brethren. He would get up early before everyone else so he would have time to write. He wrote every day the rest of his life, early in the morning. He taught writing at Lewis and Clark College for a living.
I remember hearing him quote a line from William Blake, "I give you the end of a golden string -- wind it into a ball. It will lead you in to the beautiful gate -- in by Jerusalem's wall."
Stafford emphasized learning to follow -- that is, trust -- your sense of what you needed to say next, your sense of what it was possible to say, given what you had just said.
Most of us who were taught to look at writing as a finished product get so focused on whether the final product is perfect that we forget to give ourselves to the wonderful things that will occur to us if we cultivate receptivity rather than control.
Don't you think that the process you're going through in your life right now has been a lot about receptivity rather than control?
I admire your choice to write about the whole thing. I care about what you say, but I also care that you are choosing to say it. Good for you!
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