I am starting to identify with Sarah—you know, Abraham’s wife. One day, Abe got an international driver’s license, bought an RV, and, at God’s direction to “go to a land I will show you,” they left everything and hit the road, traveling all over the place from Ur of the Chaldeans to Haran and on down to Egypt (with a possible side trip to Disneyland).

I wonder if Sarah ever got cranky pulling up the tent pegs and moving on. My husband and I are “pulling up our tent pegs” for the fifth time in three years as we prepare to move on to our next assignment—although in three short weeks we will no longer actually have a tent. Just the “pegs”: a few pots, a couple of lamps, and a small assortment of miscellaneous items on which to anchor our next household. We must turn over the keys to our current home soon, and as yet we do not technically have a place to move into (details, details). So I can identify with Sarah and the whole “go to a land I will show you” thing.

Mostly, I am okay with that. I was up late packing one night last week, though, when my mind started the downward spiral of “Whatifs.” In his poem titled “Whatif,” Shel Silverstein wrote about the fears of a child….

Last night, while I lay thinking here
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song
Whatif I’m dumb in school?
Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool?….

The poem continues with 18 more fearful “Whatifs” from a child’s perspective. My “Whatifs” go more like this….

Whatif God doesn’t give me a new home,

Whatif forever I must roam…..yada yada yada….

You get the drift. Sometimes I wonder why one minute I am full of faith and the next full of worst-case scenarios. It is true God that has not shown us the city where we will live next, or when He will give us a new apartment into which to settle. This has happened before. He has always taken good care of me. It is just challenging to be in this insecure place of having to trust in Him yet again.

Has there ever been a time in your life when a source of security for you was suddenly not looking so secure, and you were a little shaky?

The Bible comforts me with this psalm of David, Psalm 62: 5-6: For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. It is comforting to know that I am in the company of some of the seemingly unshakable forefathers of our faith. David reminds me that my faith does not rest on what I can see—the next home. It rests in the One I can trust. That is a good thing, too! I figure if He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, He owns a few homeowners as well. Surely He can prompt someone to rent us just the right apartment.

In the interim, while I am praying and waiting and moving from place to place, maybe I will take a side trip to Disneyland…


©2014 Thrive.


Question to consider: When have you had “a time in your life when a source of security for you was suddenly not looking so secure, and you were a little shaky”?