Helen Martin’s Blog

Wow. I was praying and I asked God a scary, but very real, question.

“You allowed terrible things to happen [to me]. Why should I trust You to not let horrible things happen to my children.”

Then I said, “OK, I’m just going to look in Your Word.” On the daily Bible reading schedule that we like (but I don’t always keep up with it) there are four chapters each day. Today, I picked Psalm 18. Mind you, I didn’t approach the Bible this morning full of great faith and trust—obviously, given the question I had just asked Him, that’s clear—but I knew that the Scriptures were my only source of help. And I did look with just a shred more hope than usual. I was blown away.

In Psalm 18, I found the Truth about my life:

God saw my distress, it made Him angry, and He came riding in on a white horse (OK, flying in on a cherubim) to rescue me and utterly destroy my enemies.

It’s really true. It wasn’t the passage of time, or of “circumstances” that rescued me. It was God Almighty.

So I realized something very profound today. I have to trust His Word more than my history.

For a lot of reasons, my past is not a good place to go to find the Truth. For one thing, I don’t remember it clearly and objectively—even from a factual perspective. More to the point, though, I don’t see HIM in it.

But the Scriptures are so vital in their ministry to me as the Word fills in so many blanks. Psalm 18 creates a completely different picture of my past than the one I assumed to be accurate all these years; it changed everything!

It’s like this:

I look at my past and it’s seedy and dim and maybe there’s a rickety lamp in the corner with a dented and dusty shade shedding just enough light to see the general events that took place there; things I’ve done, things done to me… I can see just enough to make me ache.

But then God, like a bright sunrise, comes shining forth and all I can see is the brightness of His coming to vanquish my foes. I can’t see details anymore; not the ones I remember, not the ones I forgot. I can only see Him coming to save me. He really did. I’m still bathed in the brightness of his rescue… it’s indelibly imprinted on me.

I am not taking this as a promise that terrible things won’t happen to my children. Oh, I wish you could see me while I type this. I am almost learning this simultaneously as I tell you.

But how many times did Jesus answer a different question than the one that was asked? I was asking how I’ll know they will be OK, but what I needed to be sure of is that I am!

My insecurities about their futures stem from my unanswered questions about my history! (And my present.)

If I really am OK—if I am really in the center of His love and care and healing power; if my name is really written on His hand, and He really thinks about me every minute of every day—then the brightness of that answer obscures all the questions of what will become of my children! Because the answer is, He will take care of them. His care is over and above and behind and before and inside and outside of all the circumstances that can touch them; just like it is for me! And they will be OK based on who HE is, not on what happens to them.

And so will I. So am I! Oh my goodness gracious. So am I.