When I was little, we would occasionally take day-trips or be out at a friend’s home, requiring a late-night return to our own house. As we drove home in the dark I would often fall asleep in the car. Though I was sleeping, I was aware enough of the movement of the car, coming to a gradual stop at a traffic light or intersection, gently pulling away from the stop, the sound of the turn signal, abnormally loud in the quiet of the night. I knew that, without watching his every move, my Dad was carefully piloting our family through the dark streets and we would eventually pull into the driveway where he would stop the car, turn the key, and we’d be home.
Now, I’m not sleeping through our situation and the trials which are bombarding us on every side. Yet I trust completely my Father God who is piloting us through the dark, who knows when to slow down and turn, where next to go, and how and when to pull safely into the driveway and bring us home. There may be stops on the way, and his chosen route to our destination may not be that which I expect. But He is wise, and loving, and good. He can see around the corners and into the future and He knows best which way we need to go. As He appears to drive further away from what I think our objective is, I must train my eyes on him and not the unfamiliar terrain around us and trust that He has not forgotten the way, but instead, He knows a better way.
He has already given me what is my most vital need, and that is Himself. He now continues to provide me with what I need in order to grow and to learn more dearly how trustworthy and good He is. I’m a slow learner, but He is patient and kind. I misunderstand His lessons at times, but He is faithful and lovingly continues to provide what I need. I tend to look only at my immediate surroundings, at the mess and tumble of my life, yet He calls me to look to Him and the glory and promises of eternal security. Nothing can separate me from Him. My own meager experience and fearful heart tell me otherwise, but He is to be trusted, not they.
I can’t reach the wheel, couldn’t turn it if I could reach it, and from my vantage point, would likely steer the car into a tree anyway since I can’t see out the windshield. So in my moments of fear I ask Him to help my unbelief. I’m not quite “letting go and letting God”, but am “working out my own salvation in fear and trembling, for it is God who works in me to will and to work for His good pleasure.” I have plenty which He has given me to do as he pilots us through the storm. Sitting here in the backseat I’ll continue to do those things which He has given me to do, leaving the driving to Him.