Mysteries

I love mysteries!

And I hate mysteries.

And if I had to guess, I’d venture to say you’re in the same boat with me.

​Allow me to explain.

My favorite genre of fiction happens to be suspense/mystery. I love them. Mysteries are a perfect escape from reality for me. I like not knowing what's going to happen next, and I love trying to figure out what happens next anyway, and of course, trying to guess "whodunit." Maybe reading isn’t your thing – but perhaps crime dramas are a go-to for you. I think media trends to show that we, the people, love mysteries.

In real life, however, I have a much harder time getting excited about not knowing what's around the bend. It's far too easy for me to find myself anxious, and often fearful, about anything from what's going to happen when I call this person, to what's going to happen over the course of the year – or beyond. When I don't have a grasp on what to expect or what's going to happen, it doesn't matter how big or small the situation is, I just plain don't like it. 

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Sometimes I wish life were like one of my favorite, well-worn novels. I wish I knew the ending, so I could better enjoy the story. I wish I had a guarantee that everything will end the way I hope, the way I dream. I wish it were easier to see when things are going wrong, or identify the people who are up to no good. I wish I could easily predict the results of my choices. I just really wish I knew the ending.

When I’m really honest with myself, though, I can trace it even deeper than just the innocent idea of wishing I knew the ending – what I’m really concerned with is control. I want to control my life. I want to control my outcomes. I want to control my relationships. And when God gently reminds me that I don’t have control, I usually respond with anxiety and fear. Another attempt at control.

Why on earth do we think that if we fret enough over something we can somehow control the outcome? 

​Or am I the only one that falls into that trap? Or maybe if I worry enough about it and analyze it enough, I’ll figure out the answer – but the reality is, as soon as I think I’ve figured it out, God does something completely different. Because His understanding is way beyond mine, and His ways are so much better than mine. Worry and fear cause me to miss that, though, because rather than seeing God, I’m seeing me.  

The truth is, when I give in to worry, anxiety, and fear, I’m revealing that I trust what I can see and feel over and above God and what He has promised. I'm revealing that I don’t really believe that God is good, and that He loves me, or that He’s working for my good and His glory.  

The truth hurts. Especially this truth. And I think there’s a few reasons for that. One is that worry, anxiety, and fear often start out small. They also tend to be widely acceptable as normal behavior, rather than seen as dangerous or potentially sinful. On the flip side, we can also struggle with the belief that feeling those emotions is immediately sinful. For me, half the battle lies in overcoming my false belief that to even feel that fear is to have already lost the battle, when in reality, it’s how I respond to that fear that will result in my victory or failure.

Here’s something that I hope will encourage you if you struggle like I do with worry and fear: just because a circumstance or situation evokes an emotional response in me doesn’t mean I have to respond to, indulge, or act on that emotion.

​Faith is not shown in us not having
those emotional vulnerabilities,
but in our overcoming those emotions
by acting on what we know is true
​rather than what we feel is true. 

The greatest Truth we must cling to when struggling with fear of the unknown is this: while I may not know what's going to happen, God does. 

And if God is really good, and if He really loves me, and He’s really working all things for my good (Romans 8), then what have I to fear? Absolutely nothing.

Is anything a surprise to God? No. Is anything too hard for God? No. To us, of course! But not God.

So how should we respond to the mysteries of the future? You probably know what I’m going to say… SURRENDER. We must surrender our future to God. We must surrender our feeble attempts at control to God. We must trust Him instead of us, we must trust His power instead of ours, and then we must wait.

We don’t need to rush out and fix the problems we face. We need to seek God.

We don’t need to fret over what could happen. We need to trust God.

While I don’t know what’s around the bend, God not only knows it well, He even knows how my great-grandchildren are going to struggle with the twists and turns in their lives, and how He’s going to prove Himself just as faithful to them as He has to me.

Money problems? Surrender. He promised to provide all that I need.

Relationship problems? Surrender. He promised to give me the grace to work through conflict.

God knows what He’s doing in your life. And it’s good. Because He is good. Instead of focusing on my problem, I have to choose to focus on God. And when I fix my eyes on God, His goodness, His love, His power, and His promises to hear me, encourage me, strengthen me, provide for me, and be with me, then my fear and anxiety begin to dissipate and I’m able to experience peace.  

I won’t sugar-coat it, though. The waiting can be hard. But we have to trust God. He knows the end of the story. He’s never late. Even when the wait for answers, direction, and relief seems impossibly long, I’ve discovered that once God does intervene, the wait didn’t seem nearly as long as it felt.  In fact, I usually look back and can see how God was actually working pretty quickly. I just couldn’t see it at the time. It was a mystery. But the threads of the story line were all there, and looking back I don’t know how I missed it.

I’m thankful my life doesn’t depend on me, and that my story belongs to God. 

Let’s trust God with the story of our lives,
and let Him weave His love and grace
through every page as we trust and obey – living a surrendered life.