“What does it mean to trust God?”

That was the opening question in our staff meeting recently. Then a devotion was shared which compared trusting God to the work between trapeze artists. In their work, there are two roles: flyers and catchers. The job of the flyer is to do what it sounds like-release from the bar and fly in the air to be caught by their teammate. And by fly they mean do nothing. Don’t try to help the catcher. Don’t reach for the catcher. Just be in the air and trust that you will be caught.

As I listened to the devotion and the following discussion, my mind went to the previous day and my personal experience of trying to help when I wasn’t supposed to. Since my second neck surgery in 2014, I keep regular appointments with my massage therapist, Mike. And we have some interesting conversations while I’m on the table. There are rarely any lulls.

My neck was particularly tight that day, so Mike was having to spend more time on it. He always starts on my neck while I’m on my back. And he always finishes working on my neck with the same move. I know it’s coming; after 8 years I pretty much know exactly what he’s going to do next. His final move is to put both hands under my head, lift, and slowly bend my neck toward my chest. Most visits, he’ll do this several times.

On that day, I immediately knew I had done something Mike told me not to do the first time he worked on me. Rather than let him do the work, I helped. I mean, do I really need someone to lift my head toward my neck? I wasn’t born yesterday. Mike is from New York; he’s got no problem calling you out. So on that first visit when I helped him lift my head he said, “Don’t do that. While you’re on my table, you need to let me do all the work. Just pretend you’ve lost all control of your body. Go limp. Trust me and don’t get in the way of my work.”

In my talking while Mike lifted my head on this visit, I knew instantly that I had helped and wasn’t limp. So before he scolded me I said, “I helped you, didn’t I?” He said, “Yes, you did. Stop it.”

Too many times I try to help God. I get in the way. He doesn’t scold me, but he certainly lets me know things could be done more in his way, in his time, and in his perfection if I’d just go limp. Sure, I can do all the work I should while off the table. But when I’m on the table, he’s most going to have his way when I’m trusting him to do what only he can do.

Fly! God will catch you.

Go limp. God doesn’t need your help.

You can trust him.

Photo by Joseph Frank on Unsplash