On Trust

Trust is tough.

For those of you without children first let me say that I don’t understand what you do with all of your time. You should definitely be in good shape and have read plenty of books.

Second, I will explain one of the many difficulties of taking a seven year old girl to the doctor.

If you take a child to see the pediatrician and you even remotely mention the complaint of a sore throat, you can count on seeing a swab shoved into the back of it.

One thing we doctors do well in America is make sure that people don’t have something. The swab-in-the-back-of-your-kid’s-throat routine is to make sure that they do not have strep throat. I guess this makes sense because if left untreated it can result in Rheumatic fever, which can be bad. Really bad.

Therefore every pediatrician makes it their mission to rid the world of streptococcus infected airways.

This is where my daughter comes into play. She has a hard time trusting the doctor. She has had her throat swabbed before and its not a pretty scene. Anticipating a struggle, we give her the “Trust the doctor, it is for you own good, your parents love you and would not let anyone hurt you” speech. She listens to us, and in general I think she believes us. But it is really hard for her to trust someone shoving something in the back of her throat.

Trusting God can be just as difficult, especially when it feels like he is putting things into our lives that are way too big for us to handle.

I know that God loves me and I know that he cares about me. I believe that all things are for my good. I believe that he is both loving and sovereign. But sometimes it feels like I am lying on an exam table with several nurses forcing my mouth to stay open as he shoves an enormous Q-tip down the back of my throat.

When my job becomes overwhelming, I worry about whether or not I can sustain the work load.

When my kids misbehave, I worry about how they will turn out when they get older and whether or not I am the worst parent ever.

When a new, unexpected bill arrives (such as having to fix a garage door), I worry about making ends meet.

When a family member tells me that they are sick, I worry that they will have cancer, and I will lose them.

When the Louisville Cardinals lose in the first round and the Kentucky Wildcats make it to the Final Four of the NCAA tournament, I worry about the stress that will be placed on some of my friendships.

This past week my daughter made a trip to the doctor with a sore throat, and he swabbed it, and she threw up, thankfully in the trash can.

Unfortunately future throat swabs are inevitable, and she cannot change this reality. What she can change is her lack of trust and abundance of fear.

Until then, I’ll be cleaning up the mess. Hers and my own.

Do you feel like God is shoving something down the back of your throat?