Trouble with trust except where it belongs

Sorry, but I don’t trust the Israelis and I don’t trust the Palestinians. I don’t trust the activists and I don’t trust the media. And that’s just one issue.

I don’t trust the miners and their crying poor, and I don’t trust, but less, the unions and politicians pushing the super tax.

I don’t trust the scientists who advocate climate change and I don’t trust those that deny it and I don’t trust myself to know the truth if I heard it.

I’m struggling to trust all the books claiming new-ancient ways of doing church because the next book always qualifies the first and starts to sound like what we are already doing.

I don’t trust high-profile Christians in the marketplace to always do the right thing because I can’t always do the right thing and I probably face less pressure than they do.

I often don’t trust journalism (sorry my friends) today because opinion has taken over and whose opinion is it anyway.

I do trust Tony Abbott when he tells us that some of the time he can’t be trusted but I’m not sure if that leaves me ahead or behind.

I don’t trust the next great big thing that’s going to change the world, even those with a Christian veneer, because humans have always had the next big thing and the first was called Babel.

It’s no surprise or tragedy that trust is so often unwarranted. We are all so easily swayed by our own gain whether it be for wealth, warmth or welcome.

Strangely, I do trust a God who I have never seen or heard, who leads me beside stormy waters and quieteth not my soul. Because just when I think I’ve had it, the storm abates, the peace comes and I see and hear him in some way deeper than my senses.

I trust Jesus, and even as I write these words, I feel his goodness pervading in a way that warms my soul and encourages me to love this world anyway.

I trust my wife, the truest heart I’ve ever met, and I trust my love for her and our children, and them for us, trust to die by. And when I think about it there are many family and friends I trust deeply.

Perhaps I’m more trusting that I realise. Knowing helps trusting but knowing is more elusive than ever.

As for the big, wide world out there, it’s not that I’m untrusting, but I’m learning that we don’t need to trust to love and have faith. They are a sacrifice of a different kind… PH

The only way out is…

See the long-haired, drug dealing/using skinny man with the bad teeth and flared jeans? That’s the one. With the plate of food covered in pepper. You have his measure and feel confident that your approach to life is superior.

As you share a few of your own struggles, though, he smiles, and kindly says: “The only way out is up.” And you realise that you don’t have a mortgage on faith and goodness.

See the neatly dressed older man who sits alone? The one who keeps to himself but is quick to lend a practical hand and quietly admits to you that he is a [reformed – that is, constantly battling] alcoholic.

Overhearing some of your challenges he too offers comfort: “I’ve learned over the years that whenever you attempt something for God, he looks after it.” And you wonder how you, with so much, have chosen to ignore this gracious truth.

“Now there lived in that city a man poor but wise, and he saved the city by his wisdom. But nobody remembered that  poor man.” Ecclesiastes 9:15