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“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path.” Proverbs 3:5-6
Some of you may be familiar with the “One Word” philosophy. For those of you who are not, simply put, rather than choosing a goal, or a New Year’s Resolution, you would choose just one word for the year, or “season” of your life.
I was introduced to this concept through Jon Gordon’s book, “One Word that will Change your Life”. Jon Gordon takes a biblical approach on this idea, and directs his readers to get their One Word from God. This is why I believe it is something that is powerful enough to “change your life” – because God is the one that is ultimately leading you. He chooses the word for you; one word specifically and purposefully chosen and for that season of your life it is designated for; forever leaving a mark on your life.
Maybe you’re not into this sort of thing, but this is my sixth year using the One Word philosophy and I can tell you from experience, the impact it’s had on my life is undeniable.
This year, after lots of prayer, God gave me the word “trust”. Initially I would have thought this to be a little cliché and not have much to it; I mean, for me at least, I have no problem saying I trust in God. There have been so many faith-building things or events in my life that I can look back on as reminders that God is in control and I can always trust in Him no matter the circumstance. (Seriously, I hope to write a book on this one day!) But something happened actually around the time I was trying to choose my One Word for this season that really convicted me and made me realize that God has a lot of work to do in me when it comes to trust…
David and I had a trip planned to visit my family in Melbourne. We booked the flight for 6:10 on a Thursday evening, so I could get out of work at 4, grab a bite to eat, and get an Uber no later than 5. (Yes, I realize we sort of were towing the line here already, but depending on what kind of airport you’re used to, understand that Aidelaide’s airport is not that bad; we were all checked in with zero bags to check (a three day trip only requires one carry-on each), AND going through security in Australia is SO much quicker than America (you don’t even need to take your shoes off!).
Okay, so back to the story… Everything’s going to plan until I get home around 4:15 and David tells me the flight is actually at 5:50.
“What? Why did the flight change?”, hangry Teige asks.
“I don’t know. It just changed.”, distracted-with-basketball David replies.
Well, my stubbornness (and hunger) kicked in, and despite David’s plead that we leave right away, I decided that “eh, we’re fiiiine… let me just eat something really quick.”
Meanwhile David packs up his laptop, checks out how long an Uber would take to pick us up (but refuses to order one until we can be outside waiting) and begins pacing; gently urging me to hurry as I scarf down a whole bowl of pasta.
Long story short, what would normally be about a 15-20-minute drive to the airport turned into a 35-minute drive during traffic-hour (Oops, didn’t think of that one; traffic in Adelaide is seriously nothing anyway and that’s all I had in my head when I made my decision to eat.) I prayed the entire way that our flight would be delayed because we literally arrived at the airport as the gate was closing – 5:35pm.
We rush to security and run-walk (yea, those people) to the gate. There’s a whole heap of people sitting there and all I see as I approach the sign is “GATE CLOSED”; no flight attendant or airline worker to speak to at the desk either.
Well, here’s where I get embarrassed and honestly quite ashamed of myself…
I lost it.
Probably not so visibly to the strangers around us, but certainly visible to David; too visible, in fact… I just mumbled and grumbled, and snarled and snared, and even started blaming him as we walked all the way back outside of security (still couldn’t find an airport attendant at this point and, yes, I’m still a tad bitter about it). You know, I actually don’t even doubt if any strangers thought I looked like the ugliest person on earth because my internal prideful-self refused to be humble enough to admit that I was the one who caused us to miss this flight – so much so that it just overflowed from the inside out and I know I reeked “evil Teige”.
Finally, we find the airline help desk, and this is about how the conversation went as I walked up to the counter:
“Hi…. We’ve completely missed our flight,” I said, defeated.
“Where are you headed?”
“Melbourne.”
“Melbourne? . . . Our flight to Melbourne has been delayed.”
“What?! You only have one flight to Melbourne tonight?”
“We only have one flight to Melbourne tonight and it’s been delayed. That must be the best news you’ve heard all day!”
Hahaha… oh my goodness! I still chuckle/roll my eyes in disbelief just thinking about it now!
Yes, that was the best news we had heard all day, but how much better would that news have been if I hadn’t have acted like such a jerk to David? David was more than bothered by the way I treated him and I felt horrible in starting our fun weekend adventure the way I did.
Even if there was no delay and we actually ended up missing our flight, A) I had no right to be angry with anyone else but myself, and B) there was no point in being angry; what’s done is done, and, in the whole grand scheme of life, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.
That’s when I felt super convicted though. I might say that I trust in God, but in that moment, God asked me, “Do you REALLY trust me?”. Any time I get anxious, worried, or even angry, all that says to God is, “I don’t trust You . . . I don’t believe You . . . I want my way, not Your way”.
And that’s why my One Word is “trust”.
I am a little over a month into this new season of “trust” and I truly believe it’s already changing me for the better. Any time I feel anxiety coming on; or I start fretting about even the littlest of things; or I start to get angry when things don’t go my way, I just try to obey that still, small voice reminding me:
“Trust”
Proof we made the flight, and David did forgive me!
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Cheers,
Joyful Jot
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