"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5–6). Trusting God sounds simple until he asks us to let go of something.
These seven stories about trusting God and obedience, retold in our own words, mix humour, parable and history. Some make us laugh at ourselves; others show what confident faith looks like under pressure. Each ends with a takeaway for sermons or reflection.
Stories in this collection:
- "Is Anyone Else Up There?"
- "Is He Safe?": Aslan in Narnia
- Thou Shalt Not Cut Off the End of Thy Neighbour's Logs
- Either Side of the Hill
- The Chess Master: How God Weaves Our Moves
- "Let Us Pray That We Are on God's Side"
- "Come and Join the Winning Side": Desmond Tutu
"Is Anyone Else Up There?"
A well-known joke; its author is unknown.
A man named Jack was out walking along the top of a steep cliff one day when he strayed too close to the edge and fell.
On the way down he managed to grab hold of a branch growing out of the cliff face, and it stopped his fall. He looked down, and to his horror he saw that the drop below him went straight down for more than a thousand feet. He could not hang on to the branch forever, and there was no way to climb back up the sheer rock.
So Jack started shouting for help, hoping someone passing by would hear him and lower a rope. Help! Help! Is anyone up there? He shouted for a long time, but no one answered. He was just about to give up when he heard a voice.
Jack, Jack, can you hear me?
Yes! Yes! I can hear you! I'm down here!
I can see you, Jack. Are you all right?
Yes, but who are you, and where are you?
I am the Lord, Jack. I am everywhere.
The Lord? You mean God?
That's me.
God, please help me! Jack begged. I promise, if you get me down from here, I'll stop sinning. I'll be a really good person. I'll serve you for the rest of my life.
Easy on the promises, Jack, said the voice. Let's get you off there first, and then we can talk. Now, here's what I want you to do. Listen carefully.
I'll do anything, Lord. Just tell me what to do.
All right. Let go of the branch.
What?
I said, let go of the branch. Just trust me. Let go.
There was a long silence. Then Jack shouted at the top of his voice: Help! Help! Is anyone else up there?
Takeaway: We often want God's help on our own terms. Real trust means doing what he says, even when it feels like letting go of everything we are holding on to.
Source: Traditional joke; author unknown.
"Is He Safe?": Aslan in Narnia
In C. S. Lewis's much-loved children's book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950), four children find their way into the magical land of Narnia.
The story is great fun, but it is also a powerful picture of Christ and salvation. Christ is represented by Aslan, the great lion who is the true king of Narnia.
In Narnia, the children meet Mr and Mrs Beaver, who tell them about Aslan. Lucy asks whether Aslan is a man. Mr Beaver is quite stern in his reply. Certainly not, he says. Aslan is the king of the wood and the son of the great Emperor beyond the sea. He is a lion, the great Lion.
Susan admits that she had thought he was a man, and that she will feel rather nervous about meeting a lion. She asks whether he is safe.
Mrs Beaver tells her she will certainly feel nervous. Anyone who can come before Aslan without their knees knocking, she says, is either braver than most or simply silly.
So he isn't safe? Lucy asks.
Mr Beaver is astonished at the question. Who said anything about safe? Of course he isn't safe. "But he's good. He's the King."
Lewis's point is a profound one. Trusting God does not mean that he is tame or that following him will always feel comfortable. God is not safe in that sense. But he is utterly good, and that is why we can trust him.
Takeaway: God is not tame and not under our control. We do not trust him because he is safe, but because he is good.
Source: C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950).
Thou Shalt Not Cut Off the End of Thy Neighbour's Logs
A traditional story; its author is unknown.
A pastor took up a new post in a small country town whose whole economy depended on timber milling.
One day, walking beside the river, he noticed some of the men from his congregation balancing on logs as they floated downstream. That was how the timber was carried from the forest to the mill. He admired their skill as they stood on the moving logs and sawed a metre or two off the end of each one as it drifted past.
But his admiration turned to horror when he looked at the brands on the logs. They belonged to a rival sawmill. The men were cutting off the branded ends, so that they could claim the timber as their own.
The following Sunday, the new pastor stood up to preach. The title of his sermon was "Thou shalt not steal". Afterwards the loggers lined up to shake his hand and congratulate him on a fine sermon.
Pleased that they had got the point, he took another walk by the river the next day. To his astonishment, there were the same men, sawing the ends off their rivals' logs just as before. Clearly they had not seen the connection.
So the next Sunday the pastor preached again. This time the title of his sermon was "Thou shalt not cut off the end of thy neighbour's logs."
The following week, the church fired him.
It is easy to agree with God's commands in general. Obedience becomes costly when God gets specific about our own lives.
Takeaway: We are happy to obey God in general, as long as he does not get too specific. Obedience becomes real when it touches our own habits.
Source: Traditional story; author unknown.
Either Side of the Hill
Scott Higgins tells of a family holiday along Australia's east coast. He, his wife and children had been driving for a very long time. It was hot, everyone was tired, and they were looking forward to a break at Byron Bay, which they knew lay just over the next big hill.
So up the hill they drove. And then, at the top, they saw it: one of the most breathtaking views you could hope to see. A lush green valley stretched away below them all the way to the deep blue of the ocean.
There was a lookout at the top, so they pulled over, jumped out of the car and stood gazing at the view. The children decided they had reached the top of the world. They climbed onto a little stone wall and danced, singing over and over that they were on top of the world.
In some ways, Higgins says, it really did feel like that. It was one of those perfect moments frozen in time: the children singing and dancing, the fresh wind on their faces, the sun shining, the road they had travelled stretching out behind them and the road ahead winding away into the distance. They knew who they were, where they had come from and where they were going.
If we think of life as a journey, most of us would love to sit on top of the world like that. We would like to have a moment when everything comes together and makes sense, when we can look back at where we have come from, look ahead to where we are going, see the detours, potholes and dangers waiting for us, and plan how to meet them.
But instead, he reflects, we spend most of our lives travelling on either side of the hill. We cannot see far ahead. We are caught out by potholes, detours and danger spots, and we have to struggle through them as best we can.
God sits at the top of the hill. He sees how it all fits together, even when we do not. Faith reminds us that he is there, and that even on the roughest parts of the road we can trust him to guide us through.
Takeaway: God sees the whole road from the top of the hill. We rarely do. Faith means trusting him with the stretches we cannot see.
Source: Illustration by Scott Higgins.
The Chess Master: How God Weaves Our Moves
A parable inspired by an idea of Philip Yancey.
Once upon a time there was a grand master of chess who had no ego or pride at all. He would play anyone who wanted to test their skill, from complete beginners to experts.
One day a particularly determined young man sat down opposite him, set on winning. The grand master smiled at the young man's first move. Clearly he had been studying. It was a well-known opening, and the master answered it easily.
With every move the young man made, the master responded thoughtfully and skilfully. Before long the young man was checkmated. They played again, and again. Each time, the young man tried different moves and different strategies, and each time the master responded generously and wisely. They played twenty games that day, and the master won every one, comfortably.
When people try to imagine how God can be in control of his world, some picture him as the author of a play, who has written every line of our lives in advance. Others picture him as a member of the audience, simply watching as we write our own script. Both pictures have problems. The first seems to rob us of our freedom. The second seems to remove God from the story.
Perhaps a better picture is a chess game between a grand master and a beginner. The beginner moves his pieces around the board. He follows a few basic strategies he has read about. Some of his moves are foolish. The master answers each move with great skill and wisdom. His moves are not pre-programmed. They are genuine responses to the moves of the other player. Yet, without the beginner even realising it, the master weaves each of those moves into his own plan. And the outcome of the game is never in doubt.
Perhaps God is the master, and we are the beginners. We make our choices freely, and sometimes they are foolish and harmful. But God responds with wisdom, weaving even our mistakes into his purposes. And the final outcome, a renewed creation, is never in doubt.
Takeaway: "In all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Romans 8:28). Our choices matter, but God's purposes will not fail.
Source: Illustration by Scott Higgins, based on an idea in a Philip Yancey article in Christianity Today.
"Let Us Pray That We Are on God's Side"
A widely quoted anecdote whose original wording is uncertain.
During the American Civil War, the story goes, a group of ministers met President Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln was not a regular churchgoer, but he was a man of deep, if sometimes unconventional, faith, and his speeches were full of the language of the Bible.
At one point one of the ministers said that he hoped the Lord was on the side of the Union. Or, in the popular version, he suggested that they pray that God would be on their side.
Lincoln's reply showed far greater insight. In the version usually quoted, he said that he was not concerned about that, because God is always on the side of what is right. His constant anxiety and prayer, he said, was that he and the nation should be on God's side.
We have not been able to confirm a reliable first-hand record of the conversation, and the wording varies from one telling to another. But the sentiment fits Lincoln's thinking, which often wrestled with the idea that God's purposes might differ from those of either side in the war.
The story is a reminder that faith is not a tool for getting God to do what we want. It is an invitation to open ourselves to what God wants, and to ask whether we are on his side.
Takeaway: Faith is not a way of getting God to back our plans. It is a commitment to line our lives up with his.
Source: Traditional anecdote about Abraham Lincoln; we have not been able to confirm a reliable original source.
"Come and Join the Winning Side": Desmond Tutu
During the final, darkest years of apartheid in South Africa, the government tried to silence opposition by banning a planned political rally.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu responded by announcing that he would hold a church service instead, at St George's Cathedral in Cape Town.
The cathedral was packed with worshippers. Outside, hundreds of police gathered, a show of force designed to intimidate. As Tutu preached, armed police came into the cathedral and lined the walls. They took out notebooks and wrote down everything he said.
But Tutu refused to be intimidated. He preached against the evil of apartheid, declaring that it could not last.
According to Jim Wallis, who tells the story, Tutu then turned and spoke directly to the police. They were powerful, he told them, very powerful. But they were not gods, and he served a God who could not be mocked. And since they had already lost, he said, he invited them that day to come and join the winning side.
At that, the congregation erupted, leaping to their feet in song and dance.
The police did not know what to do. Their attempt at intimidation had failed, overcome by the archbishop's confidence that God and goodness would triumph over evil. Within a few years, apartheid had indeed come to an end, and Tutu went on to chair South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
Takeaway: Confidence in God's ultimate victory frees us to stand firm, even in the face of intimidation.
Source: Jim Wallis, God's Politics (HarperSanFrancisco, 2005).
Final thoughts
A man on a branch, a lion who is not safe, a pair of sermons, a hilltop view, a chess game, a president's reply and a smiling archbishop. Each asks whether we will trust and obey God when we cannot see the whole picture.
For further reading, Sopranu has a summary of Søren Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling, a classic reflection on faith and obedience, and of C. S. Lewis's Mere Christianity.
What branch might God be asking you to let go of?
More stories you may like:
These stories are retold in our own words for teaching and reflection. Sources are credited under each story.
Comments
Post a Comment