Hi God, Can I Trust You With This?

There are some things that are easy to tell God we're trusting Him with. The things we don't care that much about. The things we're already pretty sure will work out. The things where we have a backup plan just in case. And then there are the things that make us grip a little tighter. The decision we've been praying about for months. The door we've been hoping will open. The opportunity we don't want to miss. The relationship we desperately want God to restore. The thing we've worked really hard for.
The future we have pictured in our heads. Those are harder to surrender.
Sometimes when I say, “God, I trust You,” what I really mean is, “God, I trust You as long as this turns out the way I hope it will.” That's a very different kind of trust. I've been thinking about how often I want God to give me an answer when what He is actually asking me to give Him is my trust.
I want to know what comes next. I want to know that the opportunity will work out. I want to know that the waiting will be worth it. I want to know that the thing I'm praying for will eventually happen. And when I don't know those things, anxiety can creep in. Uncertainty makes us want to take control. If I can figure out the right thing to do, maybe I can guarantee the right outcome. If I can work harder, plan better, prepare more, or think through every possible scenario, maybe I can make sure everything turns out okay.
Eventually we reach the place where we have to admit something: We were never actually in control of the outcome. Let me just say that is not bad news. It's actually an invitation to rest.
Proverbs 3:5–6 says:
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; in all your ways know Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
I love that this passage doesn't tell us that we'll understand everything. In fact, it assumes there will be things we don't understand. That's why we're told not to rely on our own understanding. Trust becomes necessary when understanding runs out. That's why seasons of uncertainty can be so uncomfortable. They expose just how much I want to know before I'm willing to trust. I want the map. God gives me the next step. I want the timeline. God gives me today.
I want to know how the story ends. God reminds me that He is already there.
This doesn't mean we stop planning or working or making wise decisions. Trusting God isn't passivity.
We can still make the phone call. Send the application. Have the conversation. Do the work.
Open the door. Take the next step. But we can do those things without believing that everything depends on us. That's the difference.
I can be faithful without trying to control the outcome. I can work toward something without making it my source of hope. I can want something deeply and still surrender it to God. I can pray for a specific outcome and still say, “But Your will be done.”
That last part is hard because sometimes surrender feels like admitting that God might say no.
And sometimes He does. There have been things I've wanted God to do that He didn't do the way I hoped. There have been seasons where I thought I knew what was coming next and God had something completely different in mind. And I don't want to pretend those things aren't painful.
Trust doesn't mean pretending we're not disappointed. It means bringing the disappointment to God instead of allowing it to convince us that He isn't good.
We see this throughout Scripture. Jesus Himself prayed in the garden, asking the Father if there was another way. He was honest about what He wanted and then He surrendered.“Not my will, but Yours, be done.” That isn't the prayer of someone who doesn't care. It's the prayer of someone who cares deeply and trusts God more. I think that's what surrender looks like for us too.
It doesn't mean we stop caring. It means we stop believing that our preferred outcome is the only way God can be faithful. Maybe you are waiting for an answer right now. Maybe you have a decision in front of you and you don't know what to choose. Maybe you're standing in front of a closed door and wondering why God hasn't opened it. Or maybe everything is actually going well, but you're already anxious about how long it will last. Whatever it is, you can bring it to God. You don't have to make yourself stop caring.
You don't have to convince yourself that you don't want what you want. You can tell God exactly what you're hoping for and then you can open your hands.
"God, I want this. But I trust You with it."
When we surrender the outcome, we don't have to carry the weight of making it happen.
We can do what God has asked us to do today and leave tomorrow where it belongs.
With Him. That's what I've been learning through all of these questions this month.
I started by asking, “God, what's next?” But underneath that question was something much deeper.
Do I trust You if I don't know? Do I trust You if the door stays closed?
Do I trust You if You redirect me? Do I trust You if the answer takes longer than I hoped?
Do I trust You if Your plan looks different from mine?
And ultimately: Do I trust You enough to let You be God?
I don't need to have every answer before I can move forward. I don't need to know how every piece will fit together. I don't need to control the timing. I don't need to see the whole road. I can take the next faithful step and trust God with everything I cannot see. Because the goal was never to figure out what's next. The goal was to learn that wherever “next” takes me, God will already be there.
Have you been following along with the Hi God, What's Next? September Journaling Calendar? Download it here!



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