Giving in to trust

Lying on my back in a dentist's chair is not my preferred way to spend a Thursday morning. My mouth is full of metal fillings from the 1970s; not a good decade for British dentistry. As a result of that my mind remains full of memories of painful and noisy drills. Despite the wonderful treatment I receive from Tom, who must have the gentlest hands in the business, and Sharon, who takes care of my regular accumulation of plaque, this is not me at my most relaxed.

As someone who is used to being in control - particularly of my time but also more generally of my surroundings - this forced subjection to someone's else agenda - however professional and well meaning - makes me feel deeply uncomfortable and powerless. This is not life as I normally experience it.

Instead I have to trust Tom and Sharon, not simply to do a good job, but to ensure my safety and well-being. I can't be the only patient who's wondered what happens if the hands holding drill slip or a bout of sneezing suddenly engulfs the technician.

In the case of dentistry this issue of trust is made a great deal easier because I am not a dentist. If I had an inkling of skill in the area of teeth and gum manitenance I might, perhaps, feel like offering advice, or even have a go at doing the job myself. As it is I am relatively content to leave it to them.

This is not the case however in other areas of my life. There is little more debilitating than not being able to do something about a situation that deeply affects or concerns you, despite being skilled and competent to contribute. The experience of passively waiting upon others to make a decision is very difficult to accept.

Scripture's answer to this is found in Proverbs 3: "Trust the Lord with all your heart and be not wise in your own sight."

I find this kind of trust particularly difficult. After all, God gave us our minds and abilities to put them to good use, not to leave on a shelf. Yet I also recognise that there is a bigger picture that I cannot see or understand. My wisdom, such as it is, is very limited and partial.

So my options are limited. I can choose to be endlessly frustrated and fed up, or try to trust the God I believe exists at the very heart of everything, including me.

Experience tells me that the answer will lie in the 'doing'. As I reach out to God, and succumb in trust, God will rush to envelop me in love. Totally dependent on God I may be; alone I am not.

A very long time ago Julian of Norwich wrote this: "He did not say, 'You shall not be tempest-tossed, you shall not be work-weary, you shall not be discomforted'. But he said, 'You shall not be overcome'. God wants us to heed these words so that we shall always be strong in trust, both in sorrow and in joy." (Enfolded in Love, DLT, 1980, p39).

W H Vanstone wrote wonderfully about this tension between trust and waiting in his marvellous book "The Stature of Waiting". Well worth a read if you currently face a time of being 'forced to be passive'.

Dave Ford