Circus Lessons

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths.”  Proverbs 3:5-6 

I love the circus.  Especially since they seem to have done away with the white-faced clown with the unnatural red hair and the garishly (almost freakishly) drawn on smile.  A happy place full of lights and laughter, controlled chaos and the smiles of children.  The aerial artists, with their gasp-inducing flights through the air.  The amazing strength of the acrobats and contortionists.  The many motorcyclists in the “steel ball of death” (they do not call it that, but I do because it’s just flat out dangerous to me).  The big cats.  My sister and I wonder how much is part of the act when they swipe and roar at their trainer.  I say, all; she says, no way is it all an act.  We both could be wrong or one of us could be right, but who cares?  It’s the circus! (Insert giggle here).  
There was one act which brought the above scripture to my mind.  There was a little dog, a Chihuahua, doing various tricks along with his canine companions.  A pole was brought out to the center ring and a pedestal was put atop.  Now the pole was raised up to the rafters by the dog trainer, with said Chihuahua sitting very still on the pedestal.  I know immediately the small dog is to jump down and we all clap at his agility and bravery.  However, the trainer kept raising the pole higher and higher.  I began to think it impossible for the dog to land in the ring without injuring his legs in some way.  Chihuahuas are small, after all.  Yet the dog, sat there looking at his trainer, as he was raised to the heavens!  No fidgeting, no nervous-shaking (as small dogs sometimes do), he just sat looking down at his trainer as if to say “can I jump now? Is it time yet?”  When the pole was at its zenith, I realize the trainer was going to CATCH the dog.  He wouldn’t be jumping to land on his own four legs, but jumping into his trusted trainers’ arms.  The trainer gave the signal and the dog, without a flicker of hesitation, leaped off the pedestal to his awaiting trainer and crowd applause.

Instantly, I thought, “that’s how I am supposed to trust Jesus.”  No hesitation.  No apprehension.  Just a belief in the one who will never leave, nor forsake (Deuteronomy 31:6; Hebrews 13:5).  I believe the thought came because, sadly, I don’t mimic the Chihuahua.  I would be looking around for medical personnel in the vicinity, trying to gauge the distance, just in case He dropped me.  I am guilty of not trusting God as I should.  I read His word.  I read His promises.  I hear His voice.  Yet, too many times “trust in the Lord…” is head knowledge, not heart action.  I pray for His help to trust Him as I should.  He sends situations, orchestrates circumstances to extend his help, but I do not ask for it in the moment.  I miss the opportunity to experience His grace.  I know my God is faithful and He isn’t done with me.  He is not done with you either (Philippians 1:6).  He is still working in this battered and bruised heart.  And if I keep asking, He will always be there to provide what I need.  It won’t matter how high MY pole is.  I will not waver, fidget or shake.  I will just keep my eyes on the God who promised me He would perfect everything that concerns me (Psalms138:8).