By Ted Kalivoda
Statement #1: "Trust in the Lord!"
Reply: "You don't know what I'm going through."
Statement #2: "God knows your suffering."
Reply: "Well then why doesn't he do something about it?"
Statement #3: "Talk to him in prayer!"
Reply: "I tried that. He doesn't answer."
Biblical declarations . . . human responses. Have you ever thought that way? It's a human tendency, because at one time or another we all experience unwelcome situations: terminal diseases; crippling injuries; death of loved ones; broken marriages; loss of employment; rebellious teenagers; bodily aches and pains; car accidents; spoiled vacation plans; and more. Big problems, and some not so big. The former, those infrequent yet overwhelming ones like death, cause us to cry out for God's mercy. The smaller more numerous ones, like a damaged car or a ruined vacation, make us think we can muddle through on our own. They are aggravating, to be sure, but not significant enough, we think, to warrant asking God for help.
Is God pleased with this dichotomy? I think not, because he's always concerned about our well being no matter how overwhelming or insignificant the problem. After all, didn't he say, Let us than approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need (Heb.4:16)? The biblical message is that he's there for us in absolutely everything, both big and small, the momentous as well as the less grievous situations.
How do I deal with all this beyond using simplistically sounding jargon about God's trustworthiness, love and care? I'm learning that simplicity has always been God's way, beginning with his provision for salvation through faith and continuing with daily living before we get to heaven. But I didn't always see it that way. I accepted simple faith for my eternal destiny but had trouble applying it to my life here and now.
Dictating to God
My problem was that I was trying to impose my will on God, like telling him how he could solve my situation. I thought my analyses made sense, and I expected God to agree. When he didn't, I got mad. Family members had died prematurely - mother with breast cancer at age 44, and sister with kidney disease at 45. Later there were times when things went wrong for me personally. No wonder I got tired of asking God's help. His silence was stultifying.
But you're supposed to ask with thanksgiving, I was told. Well, I thought I was doing that; I was giving thanks simultaneously with expectations of God doing what I asked. I remember C.S. Lewis telling how he did that as a youngster when wanting to rescue his mother from the grip of cancer. His trust, as well as mine, was not trust at all, but merely an impassioned hope that things would turn out as we wanted.
Accepting God's Sovereignty
That my understanding of trust was deficient is a gross understatement. It was not until I saw petitioning to be associated with acceptance of God's sovereignty that my attitude changed. What brought it about? Philippians 4:6 - Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving present your requests to God. I saw the passage embracing an underlying message - trust. Trust in what? Not in the fulfillment of my own wishes but in God's sovereignty, in whatever God decided, even though I might not understand it. That's praying with thanksgiving; it loosens the clutches of anxiety and produces an attitude saying, "I trust you, Lord." "You are in charge."
Putting that approach into practice, I experienced different outcomes: a granting of my request, either immediately or at a later time, or silence. I must admit that the latter happened far more frequently, and continues to do so.
Here's how we tend to view it. An immediate healing of cancer brings great joy. Likewise, a more mundane experience of finding employment is happily received. Suffering that leads to death, however, is hard to take. We know that death hits everyone, but when it comes at an early age, as with children or young spouses, for example, or when severe and extended suffering precedes it, we get upset. We see it as inconsistent with a loving God.
Peace
How did I resolve this dilemma? My first understanding of the Philippians passage told me to put aside anxiety and to petition. Well, what about the rest of it, that of peace? And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (v. 7). It looks like I've got to let God's peace take effect. A nice thought. But I still had to deal with what it doesn't say; that is, that God fulfills petitions, for healing a fatal disease, for example, or for granting my wishes regarding any other problem. But the passage does promise inner peace. I couldn't escape that idea. Of course, I suppose I must be willing to accept peace as I depend on God without conditions or predetermined answers.
Well, that seems to be how Paul and Silas operated. When thrown into prison, they didn't start trying to figure out how they could get out, and then ask God to accomplish it. They knew better than to dictate to God. They weren't even about to suggest that God free them. Instead, they sang hymns, in all likelihood ones of praise and thanksgiving (Could that have precipitated Paul's advice to the Philippians?), to rise above their circumstances. I'm sure they didn't like being jailed, but they put their predicament in God's hands and were willing to live with the outcome. But God added that extra benefit - an angel appearing to unlock the prison doors. And on top of that, the jailer and his whole family became Christians.
The challenge for me is to approach God with the same attitude of trust, thanksgiving and inner peace as I acknowledge his wisdom rather than my own. In other words, let him do his work as he decides. In the final analysis, only one answer emerges for attaining peace — trusting in God's sovereignty, because our knowledge in no way approaches the immeasurable wisdom of the Creator. Human wisdom is minuscule compared to that of God. So we need to quit contending with him. Thomas à Kempis came to grips with it centuries ago when he said in The Imitation of Christ, "Get used to knowing less that God." That takes real courage when we are suffering.
An added feature of peace is its contagiousness to those around us. I'm reminded of the monk who decided to go to town to preach. He cheerfully greeted people as he walked down the street, he joined with children in their play, he stopped to pet a dog, and with peace and joy written all over his face he contemplated the beauty of a wild flower. People looked on with wonder and respect. On the road back to the monastery, his accompanying friend remarked, "I thought you were going to town to preach?" "I did," replied the monk.
Do you want your Christianity to be contagious? Be receptive to God's peace!
Peace is one of God's miraculous blessings. We may not know how it comes about, but we know when it overtakes us. It's a fruit of the Spirit. Do you remember? - The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace (Gal.5:20). Peace in whatever situation. It's a blessing that depends on our initiative of trust, a cooperation with the Spirit, if you will. We appropriate it in times of both blessing and hardship. But I think we would all admit that it's in the latter when peace seems to be especially meaningful.
God doesn't take away our emotions in times of hardship, but he grants power to overcome. Amidst it all is that inexplicable feeling of calm that only God can implant. That of course doesn't mean everything goes smoothly thereafter. We all would attest to that fact. Feelings of loss, loneliness, sadness and even self pity always seem to be present when hardship hits. Tears flow. We don't shed our humanness. But an inexplicable comfort is available to any willing to receive it.
I am beginning to get a better grasp of the psalmist's meaning when he said: He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord (Ps.112:7). And then as Nahum declared: The Lord is good, a refuge in time of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him (Nahum 1:7).
Can I trust him? Look again at God's extraordinary wisdom by putting aside anxiety, by petitioning with thanksgiving, and resting in his wisdom. Then, God's peace, an outflow of his mercy and compassion takes place that is beyond ("transcends") our understanding (Eph.4:7). It is a process I am learning based on trust. Trusting God in all circumstances, the big as well as the little — his formula for inner peace. Who can understand it but those who accept it? It will be for our joy.
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