I don’t trust God.
My friend Matt helped me understand my distrust of God by telling me a story. Imagine a kid who has recently bought a brand new Lego Star Wars set. The picture on the box shows an awesome space ship that he can’t wait to build. He tears open the box and disregards the instructions, doing his best to put the ship together piece by piece. In the end, he’s left with a random assortment of Legos that don’t look anything like a space ship. He stares with a face full of confusion and disappointment.
He walks over to his dad and tugs on his leg. As his father looks down at him the kid holds up his Lego disaster and says, “Fix it please.” Dad looks the chaos over carefully, evaluating what he has to work with. “Hm” he says. “Okay, but first we’re going to have to take it apart.” Immediately the boy pulls the jumbled mess away from his Dad. He clutches it close to his chest. “Take it apart?” he thinks to himself. “But it’s mine. I made it.”
I do this all the time. I make a mess and I ask, I beg God to fix it. But I don’t want him to take it apart. Because though it may be a mess, it’s mine. I know what it looks like, I know how it feels. I’ve made it into a home. I hold on to it so tightly that the pieces leave grooves in my hands, they cut into my fingers. God offers to take that mess of a home and make it into something new; something better, but something unknown. That’s scary.
You can’t really have a healthy relationship with someone you don’t trust. I’m trying to learn to let go of my Legos. I’m trying to look up at my Dad and let go, believing that God wants something more for me then the mess I’ve made. I’m choosing to pry open my shaking hands. I’m asking for strength and patience as he takes apart what I’ve made, because It’s hard to watch. But I’m holding on to the belief that what he will create out of my mess will be beautiful. A new home, even more awesome than a space ship.