Three Minute Thoughts is a new series of blog posts that I (Sarah) hope will challenge me to write more frequently. It was inspired by others bloggers who do Five Minute Fridays–but if I gave myself five minutes, they would probably turn into fifteen! I hope you are encouraged as I continue to verbally process through life.
At the core of fundraising is the issue of trust: trusting God to use other people to sustain our finances and lift us up in prayer for the next two years. This has been hugely challenging to my faith as I consider the great unknowns of the next few months (and beyond). But recently, lessons in trusting God have been coming from another source entirely: my aching head. For the past week and a half, I’ve been plagued by ongoing headaches of varying types, sometimes quite severe, and if you know anything about me, you know that I’ve immediately jumped to conclusions such as, oh, brain tumors, aneurysms, strokes. Which triggers my anxiety, which in turn goads my heartburn, which I of course assume is a heart attack… and on and on. I know as I write this that I can be the lamest of hypochondriacs (I really do need another outlet for my drama), but here you have a glimpse into the sad workings of my inner thoughts when I am not trusting God with my health and my life. I know I am not alone in this. It’s not where I want to be, but the frustrating thing is that I have not known how to repent from it, which literally means to turn away from it, to do a 180 and walk the opposite direction. I want to do that, but how can I get there?
These ongoing headaches (don’t worry, they’ve been improving) have not allowed me to ignore my trust issues with God. While with fundraising I can focus on other things and distract myself from the fear and vulnerability of it all, these headaches have given me minute-by-minute opportunities to either 1) worry, or 2) pray to God and ask for his help and peace. And so in the small moments of feeling pain in the middle of the night, I cry out to God, “Oh Lord, help me to trust you in all things. In this moment, help me to trust you with my health. You’ve given me this life on earth, and one day you’ll take it away. I am worried because I don’t trust you to be sovereign over this situation. Please help me to do what feels impossible: to turn away from my worry, and to instead trust you.” And what felt impossible a week ago is now, day by day, minute by minute, becoming real.
I am grateful that God is our refuge and our help. When we’re discouraged and shackled by even the smallest of things, he uses those moments beautifully, bringing us encouragement and freedom.
“Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.” Isaiah 40:26