A few weeks ago, I was riding in my car, and if I’m honest, my mind was consumed with worry. I was thinking about a situation in my life that I had absolutely no control over and, more importantly, one that I could not change.

I had prayed about it. I had talked about it with people close to me. I had even cried about it. Yet, somehow, I couldn’t seem to lay it down before Jesus. I kept picking it back up, carrying the weight of something I had already placed before Him in prayer.

I believed I had the faith to trust God with this situation. I knew He was able. I knew He was powerful. I knew nothing was beyond His reach. But despite what I knew about Him, I was still worrying, stressing, and struggling to surrender.

It was in that moment that I felt a gentle nudge from Jesus. Almost as if He was inviting me to look a little deeper. Perhaps there was something beneath the surface that needed to be explored. Something beyond the circumstances I was so consumed with. Something within me that needed attention.

And then came the thought that stopped me in my tracks:

You don’t trust Me with you.

Wow.

The Savior of the world was inviting me to consider whether I truly trusted Him with my own life. The One who created life, the One who holds all things together, the One I profess to love and believe in—could I really trust Him with me?

I realized that perhaps my struggle wasn’t simply about trusting God to work out a situation. Perhaps it was about trusting Him with what would happen to me if the situation didn’t work out the way I hoped.

And that opened up an entirely different conversation.

What experiences, disappointments, fears, or wounds had shaped my understanding of trust? When did I begin believing that I had to hold everything together? What caused me to embrace this lie as my truth?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

What happens when we believe God can be trusted with everything except ourselves?

Trust is a complicated thing. It has layers, and sometimes those layers are much deeper than we realize, especially when it comes to our relationship with Jesus.

There is something difficult about acknowledging that we might struggle to trust the very one who created us, particularly with the very thing He created….. us. And yet, I wonder how many of us are living in that tension right now.

We love Jesus. We believe in Jesus. We have faith in Jesus. But if we were willing to take an honest look at our hearts, would we discover that there are places within us where we simply don’t trust Him?

Think about those parts of yourself that you have worked so hard to hide. The places that feel too shameful, too broken, too messy, or perhaps too painful to bring before Him. We might assume that our reluctance to expose those places is rooted in shame. But what if there is something deeper happening? What if, beneath the shame, there is a struggle to trust?

What if we believe Jesus can handle our brokenness, but we haven’t quite learned to trust Him with it? What if we believe He loves us, but still struggle to let Him into the places where we feel most vulnerable?

This past week at our church, we had the privilege of hearing from a guest speaker, Pastor Brandon Goff. God used his sermon to confirm something He had already been gently revealing to me about my own heart.

Pastor Brandon talked about how we can have so much faith, yet still struggle with trust. The issue isn’t always a lack of faith; sometimes, the real issue is trust.

As I sat there listening to him teach, I knew God was speaking directly to my heart. It was one of those moments when something you have been wrestling with internally is brought into the light. I found myself recognizing that perhaps there were places in my own life where I had faith in Jesus but was still struggling to trust Him fully.

And that realization gave me something to think about. Because maybe the question isn’t simply whether we believe in Jesus. Maybe the question is whether we trust Him enough to let Him into every part of who we are.

So, I want to gently offer you an invitation. If you will allow me, I would love for you to join me on a journey. This is a journey of soul-searching, one that invites us to look a little deeper within ourselves and, in doing so, discover a deeper fellowship with Jesus.

Maybe, like me, you have felt the gentle nudge of the Lord inviting you to look more closely at what you have always assumed was a faith issue. Perhaps He is showing you that there is more happening beneath the surface.

You see, God doesn’t simply want us to have faith that He can do something. He invites us to trust Him with the expectation that He is faithful to work on our behalf. There is a difference between believing that Jesus is able and resting in the assurance that He is trustworthy.

Faith is believing that you can bring it to Jesus. Trust is knowing that you don’t have to pick it back up once you’ve laid it down. Faith brings it to His feet; trust allows you to leave it there.

And perhaps that is where some of us need to do a little soul-searching. Not because Jesus has given us a reason to be afraid of surrendering, but because learning to trust Him with every part of ourselves is a journey of its own.

So, would you join me? I’m so grateful you are here. I want to invite you to kick your shoes off, put your feet up and relax in the beauty of the light.