Fear or Faith

“Therefore I say to you, Don’t worry about your life, what ye shall eat or drink, or wear. Isn’t your life more than food? And your body than clothing? Watch the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store up food, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Don’t you think you’re as important to God as the birds?” Matt. 6:25, 26.

This gardening year I have decided to act on a different principle, i.e. FAITH rather than FEAR. To that end I am disciplining myself. In the past years, I have chased worry until I was exhausted, and I never caught up. There was always something more ahead to worry about.

“Faith lightens every burden, relieves every weariness.” PK 175. A lot of manufactured trials suddenly stand out in their true deformity. Other fears from past years surface, and are recognized for what they are—fear of man, or… foolishness. “The fear of man brings a snare: but whoever puts his trust in the Lord shall be safe.” Prov. 29:25.

“Today… today I will carry my duties cheerfully. Today’s faith in Jesus I must have. Today I will look and live. Today I will put my trust in god.” SOP

I think I’m going to start calling my little article—Short Sermons From Solitary Confinement. After all, although I am fairly free physically, to move around in my sphere, yet I am confined spiritually. I am almost alone in my way of worshipping our Creator God. No one understands me. No one understood Jesus. No one understands you either. Only our Creator completely understands the complex human soul. He never betrays the secrets we pour into His sympathizing ear.

But, even for God, some of our actions must be mysterious and unaccountable, i.e. worry in the way of wonderful provisions. Fear in the face of unlimited favour.

Come, O Thou Traveler unknown,
Whom still I hold but cannot see,
my company before is gone,
And I am still alone with Thee;
With Thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.
“I need not tell Thee who I am,
My sin and misery declare,
Thyself has called me by my name,
Look on Thy hands, and read it there,
But who, I ask thee, Who art Thou?
Tell me Thy name, and tell me now.
In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my hold.
Art Thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of Thy love unfold,
Clinging I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, thy nature know.”

-Charles Wesley, (1707-1788)
Kathleen Ross, Alberta, Canada