Trust is a Godly Thing

Today’s reading: Mark 16:1-7

A few nights ago, my father tripped over a chair in his bedroom and fell, injuring his arm. A frightening looking bump developed quickly over his broken skin and I decided a trip to the emergency room was in order. Dad agreed.

We arrived at the hospital and the receptionist gave us the usual forms to complete as we waited for a nurse to call us. Dad’s arm was sore, of course, so I filled in the blanks for him as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. Being intimately familiar with my father’s biography (in fact, I’m actually writing it these days) I had no trouble answering the questions without disturbing him — until I came to those frustrating, tedious words, “social security number.”

I do not know Dad’s number by heart, and writing it himself would have been difficult with his sore arm. But, before I asked him to say it out loud, I cringed.

Four or five other people were well within hearing range of even a whisper. And Dad, having Aspberger’s syndrome, could not be counted upon to quietly whisper his number anyway. It can’t be good, I thought, for Dad to announce his social security number to all of these strangers!

I quickly sent my dilemma God’s way, and His response was immediate: “Just trust all these strangers,” I heard Him say.

So, I did.

In a regular tone, I asked Dad for his social security number. He responded eagerly — and fairly loudly.

And, sure enough, one of the guys sitting next to us gave me a grimace.

“That’s not something you should ask anyone to say out loud,” he said.

I was tempted respond with my own grimace.

“Did you happen to notice my father’s bloody arm?!” I wanted to ask sarcastically. “Writing would be very difficult for him right now, don’t you think?

“And, since you are obviously so interested in our business, I guess I should tell you that my father is mentally handicapped. He doesn’t always grasp the meaning of words like ‘whisper!'”

But, instead of all that, I quickly let God guide my tongue. He saw an opportunity for teaching.

“One of the great things about my Dad is that he trusts people, and he taught me to do that, too, ” I said with a calm smile. “I see you have a notepad there. Did you happen to write Dad’s number down?”

The man seemed annoyed by my question, but admitted he hadn’t copied Dad’s number.

“That’s not the point,” he said.

I patiently gestured toward the other people in the room, none of whom seemed to be paying attention to us.

“I’m pretty confident they didn’t write the number either,” I said. “It doesn’t look like any of them even have a pen. I think God has done alright by my Dad tonight.”

The man didn’t betray any sign that I had impressed him. (He just went back silently to his reading.) But I know he digested this food for thought. I’m confident he is a more peaceful, loving man today.

All of this comes to mind this morning as I ponder today’s reading. (Before I go on, I suppose I should mention that a nurse called Dad back shortly after I turned in the form. Less than an hour later, he was on his way home with a bandaged arm and a prescription for some pain killers that he would not allow me to fill. “It wasn’t a bad idea going to the emergency room,” he said. “But I don’t think I really needed too. I feel fine now. This arm will be good as new in a day or two.”)

I thought of this man  — and of my own nervousness about Dad announcing his social security number — as I read these verses:

“As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him.” (Verses 5-6)

It dawns on me that the devil has well-conditioned our modern world. Distrust is now “just common sense.”

As I read of the two Mary’s coming upon this surprising sight of a young man sitting in Jesus’ empty tomb, I thought of what my own, modern-inspired, reaction would be to that.

I would certainly be alarmed as well.

And, unless God’s grace descended upon me very quickly, I doubt I would stop at that.

Left to my own devices learned from our modern culture, I probably would take the “common sense” approach: I would assume this man to be a grave robber of some sort, a con-man at best. I would run quickly from the grave, thanking God for the security of my cell phone and the miracle of 9-1-1.

And I would miss the best news that the world has ever known!

Wow. I (and we) still have a lot to learn from The Bible!

Thanks be to God for the trust he puts in me (and all of us) through the blessing of free will. May I always remember to trust Him, too.