How Much Do We Trust God?

Picture this: You're standing on the edge of a high cliff, wind whistling in your ears, looking down at the clear blue water below. There's a friend next to you, an experienced diver, who says, "Trust me, it's safe. Just step off the edge." What do you do? Jump off or stay put?

Now, hold that thought.

In life, we often find ourselves standing on similar proverbial cliffs. There are moments where we must decide whether to take a leap of faith, or to retreat into the safety of what we already know. As believers, we call ourselves people of faith. But do we understand the difference between belief and faith? The distinction might seem subtle, but it's crucial.

You see, belief is having confidence in the truth or existence of something, like believing that our friend is indeed an experienced diver. But faith, ah, faith is a different beast entirely. It's a confident trust that propels us to action. It's not just believing that our friend knows what he's doing, it's trusting him enough to take that exhilarating leap into the unknown.

We find a sterling example of faith in Hebrews 11:1 where it states, "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." That's the essence of faith. It's not just passive belief. It's active trust. And who do we trust in? Yes, we trust in God.

That brings me to the crux of the matter, the essence of faith is trust. It's not merely accepting God's existence, but also committing our lives to Him in complete trust. It's about willingly taking that leap off the proverbial cliff, knowing that God is there to catch us.

There's no better example of this trust than Jesus himself. In the face of crucifixion, he didn't merely accept his fate. He chose it. He decided to walk that path of suffering and sacrifice, trusting completely in his Father's plan. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his Father wouldn't leave him. Now that, my dear friend, is the epitome of trust.

So, coming back to the cliff. With the wind in your hair, the sea below you, would you take the leap? Your belief says the water's safe. But does your faith push you to trust, to jump? In essence, how much do we trust God? Let's delve deeper into that as we progress.

Right, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a widow who lived in the shadow of a massive mountain. Her little house was perpetually under its cold, dark shade. The lack of sunshine bothered her. Every day, she looked up at the towering mass of rock, praying for it to somehow disappear.

You know, this reminds me of a line from Matthew 17:20, where Jesus says, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." So, our widow prayed and prayed, asking God to move this mountain that kept her in shadows.

Yet every morning, she would open her shutters, only to see the same mountain looming over her house, casting the same dark shadow. Nothing had changed. Why? Had God not heard her prayers? Or maybe, just maybe, she didn't fully trust God to move the mountain. She wanted the mountain moved, sure, but deep down, she didn't really expect it to happen.

Are we sometimes like this widow? Do we pray for things, but then secretly feel surprised when God actually answers our prayers? Have we already set limits on what God can do? Are our prayers more like wishful thinking rather than expressions of solid trust in God's limitless power?

In essence, faith isn't just about asking God for miracles. It's about wholeheartedly trusting that He is able, that He will fulfil His promises, no matter how impossible they might seem. Faith isn't about trying to see in the dark; it's about trusting the One who controls the sunrise. Are we ready to let go of our doubts and put our absolute trust in God, just as Jesus did on the cross? That's the question we must ask ourselves. The mountain in front of us might be large, but our God is larger. Have we fully grasped this truth? And if we have, does it show in the way we live and pray?

Have you ever considered the tale of Noah? Not just as a nice Sunday School story, but as an example of endurance, obedience, and trust? Yes, Noah, the bloke who spent over 100 years building an ark, long before there was any hint of a flood. Now, that's what I call a long-term project!

In The Message version of Hebrews 11:7, it says, "By faith, Noah built a ship in the middle of dry land." The phrase 'in the middle of dry land' has always intrigued me. Imagine Noah waking up one morning, God appearing to him and saying, "Noah, I need you to build a massive boat."

"Boat?" Noah would have asked, a puzzled expression on his face, "What on earth is a boat?" You see, Noah lived in a time and place where a sea-faring vessel was about as foreign a concept as a smartphone would have been in the Victorian era. Yet, God said, "Build," and Noah, without batting an eyelid, replied, "Alright then."

People around him probably thought he'd gone a bit crackers. I can imagine them jeering, "Oi, Noah, it's been decades, where's that flood you're always going on about?" But Noah, bless him, just kept at it. He kept hammering, sawing, trusting God, even though he didn't fully understand the why and the how.

Then, one fine day, the skies opened, and Noah's trust was vindicated. Everyone saw that he hadn't been mad; he had been faithful. And when the waters receded, there was Noah, safe and sound, his trust in God as unshaken as the dry land beneath his feet.

It makes you think, doesn't it? Whatever challenges we face, however insurmountable our circumstances seem, our God is there. Just as he was with Noah. God isn't asking us to understand everything, but to trust Him in everything. So the question is, are we willing to be like Noah, placing our trust in God, even when we can't see the end from the beginning?

Then there's the story of Abraham, our old mate who got up one day, packed his bags, and set off on an incredible journey, all because God said, "Go to the land I will show you." If I were Abraham, I reckon I'd have a few questions. "Where's that, God?" "How long is the journey?" "What should I pack, sandals or boots?" But the Bible doesn't record any such queries.

No, instead Abraham just went. He didn't have a map, a compass, or even a destination. All he had was a promise from God and a heart full of trust. Can you imagine that level of faith? Setting off into the unknown, guided only by the voice of God. Now that's the kind of trust that's worth striving for.

The extraordinary thing about Abraham's story is not just the fact that he embarked on this journey, but that he trusted God without knowing where he was headed. Like a blindfolded passenger, he trusted God to steer him in the right direction.

How often do we trust God like that? How often do we pack our bags, metaphorically speaking, and set off in the direction God points us, even when we can't see the end of the road? Do we, like Abraham, fully trust in God's promise even when we can't see the final destination? That's the kind of trust that sets individuals like Noah and Abraham apart, and it's the kind of trust that we, too, should strive for.

Remember, faith is not just about believing in God's existence, it's about trusting Him enough to step out, even when we can't see where we're going. Like a child holding a parent's hand, we need to trust God to lead us safely, even when the path ahead seems uncertain.

Now let's fast forward a bit to the New Testament and take a look at the Apostle Paul. Talk about a life that was anything but plain sailing! The chap was beaten, stoned, imprisoned, and, most famously, shipwrecked.

Imagine being on a boat in the middle of a raging storm. The waves are crashing against the sides of the ship, the wind is howling, and everyone is in a state of panic. Everyone, that is, except for Paul. Amidst the chaos, he stands calm and unafraid. He trusts God, not just for his own safety, but for the safety of everyone on board.

In Acts 27, we read that Paul assured everyone that they would not perish in the storm. Now, imagine the faith and trust that takes. To stand in the midst of a storm, on a ship that's falling apart, and declare, "Do not be afraid, for I have faith that it will be exactly as I have been told."

Just like Noah, Abraham, and countless others in the Bible, Paul's trust in God enabled him to be a beacon of strength amidst the storm. His faith didn't make the storm go away, but it did give him the strength to endure it and to encourage others around him.

The truth is, storms will come in our lives. We'll face trials and tribulations, moments of uncertainty and fear. But in those moments, are we going to be like Paul, standing firm in our trust in God? Or are we going to be overcome by fear and doubt?

The key thing to remember is this: our faith and trust in God don't necessarily prevent the storms of life, but they give us the strength and assurance to weather them. Like Paul in the midst of the shipwreck, we can trust that God is with us, guiding us, even in our darkest moments.

Finally, and most importantly, let's turn our attention to Jesus, the perfect embodiment of absolute trust. At the tender age of 12, we get a glimpse of his unique relationship with God when he said, "Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?" This was a young lad, expressing his divine mission with a certainty that was well beyond his years.

Fast forward a few years to his baptism, and we see him saying to John the Baptist, "Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfil all righteousness." From the start, Jesus showed an unwavering trust in God's plan for him.

I've often wondered when Jesus first became aware of his impending death. Did he grow up with the knowledge, like a shadow always hovering in the background? Did he see criminals being crucified, a grim reminder of his own fate? We can only speculate.

Yet, even in the face of such a destiny, Jesus held firm. In the Garden of Gethsemane, he prayed, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." Here was Jesus, God made flesh, praying for another path. Yet he didn't refuse his calling, he remained obedient, placing his complete trust in God's plan.

Even as he was being mocked on the cross, the crowd jeering, "He saved others, but he can't save himself!" Jesus never wavered. His final words, as recorded by Luke, were, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." A clear declaration of his trust in God, even in his darkest hour.

And God, in His infinite love and power, delivered him. The resurrection was the ultimate triumph, the vindication of Jesus' absolute trust in his Father.

In all of this, Jesus provides us with a compelling model of trust. A model that prompts us to ask ourselves: Can we, too, commit ourselves completely into God's hands, trusting Him to guide our path, just as Jesus did? Trusting Him, even when the path seems unbearable, knowing that God's plans for us are always for our ultimate good. Can we echo Jesus' words, "Not my will, but yours be done," and mean it from the bottom of our hearts? That, my dear friend, is the challenge of faith. That is the challenge of trust.

Our journey today brings us back to a poignant question posed by the angels at Jesus' tomb, "Why seek the living among the dead?" This query wasn't just directed at the women who came to anoint Jesus' body that day. It speaks to us today, reminding us to trust in the God of the living, not the dead.

It's one thing to say we trust God when everything's going swimmingly, quite another when we're neck-deep in troubled waters. Yet, it's precisely in these tough times that we're called to trust Him the most. To believe that He loves us, that He's with us, and that He can and will bring life out of death.

Paul refers to Christ as the "firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep". The resurrection of Jesus is a beautiful, powerful testament to God's promise of eternal life. It reminds us that no matter how dark things get, there's always hope. That death is not the end, but a doorway to a new beginning.

As we take the emblems of bread and wine, representing Jesus' body and blood, let's not just remember his sacrifice. Let's also remember the trust he demonstrated, a trust we are called to emulate. A trust that says, "I don't understand everything, but I know God's got this."

Let's end with Jesus' own words, found in Luke 12:32: "Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." Let's hold onto that promise, anchoring our trust in the God who loves us, guides us, and will ultimately deliver us, just as He delivered Jesus.

Friends, let's dare to trust God with a faith as firm as that of Noah, a hope as enduring as Abraham's, a courage as unshakeable as Paul's, and a surrender as complete as Jesus'. Why seek the living among the dead? No, let's seek the living God in every aspect of our lives, trusting Him to guide our steps, shape our character, and secure our eternity.

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