Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. (Proverbs 3:5-6).

This is one of the first verses we learn as Christians.  It comes pretty quickly after, “For God so loved the world,” and “The Lord is my shepherd.”  I memorized it about 28 years ago, and I have never doubted its veracity.

But, then, I’ve never really had to put it to the test.

I mean, my life is pretty spiffy.  Today I celebrate 22 years of marriage to an excellent and beautiful woman of God.  I have two strong, healthy, intelligent children.  I have a job, a home, a car, a dog who greets me at the door, even a handful of gracious people like you who are willing to read my ramblings.

I don’t really like my cat, but at least he’s fluffy.

My point is, I don’t really have to trust God all that much.  At least, it doesn’t feel like it on a daily basis.  Don’t get me wrong–I know that every good thing, every breath, my very eternity, is dependent upon him.  It’s just that, most of the time, life is fairly predictable. Most of the time, my steps of faith are down paths that are reasonable and understandable.

But what happens when life implodes?

What happens when the only words you can muster are, “Why, God?”

If you’ve been reading this week (bless you), you know that I have some dear friends for whom life just imploded.  In a remarkably short time, their plans, their goals, their dreams have been tossed into the blender and turned to “liquefy.” Now, in these days, my friends have the uncomfortable privilege of learning what it means to

trust in the Lord with all your heart–even when your heart has crumbled to dust

lean not on your own understanding–because what you understand is that this is wrong and bad and not what was supposed to happen

in all your ways acknowledge him–even though he’s the one who is letting this happen

and to do these things, even when the path looks more like a sheer drop to the rocks.

Beloved, a lump of coal would never choose to become a diamond.  A blob of silver has no desire to be refined.  The pressure is too great, the fire too hot.

And yet, the results are remarkable.

I would pray nothing but fluff and felicity for your Friday, but I suppose it’s better to pray that God gives you strength to trust him.

After all, today may be the day he chooses to make you remarkable.