Trusting Like Alice

Trust in the Lord with all your heart …

For the life of me, I don’t know why that verse is so difficult for me to grasp. Maybe it’s because I’m German. Not only is the language hard, but so are German heads (so they say). Or maybe it’s because I’m a little bit of a rebellious adventurist who finds conforming quite boring. For sure, TRUST is a four-letter word if there ever was one. (Okay, five. But you get the gist). But maybe it’s more a matter of misplaced trust.

37c2129I see man as I see God, and I see God as I see man. As a child, I learned that my parents and elders were the authorities in my life and they had all the power and the answers. How they behaved and the choices they made were always right. They were how I envisioned God to be. So when my parents divorced when I was 11, the entwined truth and lie that both man and God could not be trusted burrowed deep in my heart. When they failed me, my young undeveloped mind found it logical to equate their erring human ways with an inerrant God.

I see myself as God. As a consequence of that firmly rooted lie, I decided that because others had failed me — including God — my own judgment would be best. I went into “savior” mode, trusting myself first and foremost. Then I wouldn’t get hurt, right?

However …

not trusting God to guide me, relying instead on myself, led me to …

  • trust when the one I was trusting hadn’t earned it and didn’t deserve it
  • trust one who told me he had changed but his actions did not prove it
  • not trust one who truly had my best interests in mind
  • believe in something so wholeheartedly that I couldn’t possibly be mistaken
  • trust one who said he doesn’t lie and found him to be deceitful and duplicitous (and with a seminary degree to boot!)

I have trusted when I shouldn’t have. I haven’t trusted when I should have. Is it any wonder I have trust issues?

So when the only One who is trustworthy asked me to trust Him, I flinched. Afraid of more injury and pain, I drew back. I turned the other way. I ran as far as I could. And I curled up inside myself and continued to trust my own untrusting heart which told me He couldn‘t be trusted either.

How was that broad chasm to trust crossed? None of it came by my hand.

It was ALL God.

That relationship that I thought could possibly be “the one”? It wasn’t. Several months after we discontinued communication, I found out he had passed away. God had protected my heart from becoming further involved.

The time I was physically lost and didn’t know which way to turn, He spoke silently into my heart to turn and go the other way. (Call me crazy, but it absolutely saved my life. True story! Future blog post.)

The lie spoken to me that I would not be a good mother, putting to death my dream of a home full of children? God provided more young people in my life than I can count.draw-near-to-god

Spending more time in the Bible, learning more about His attributes, and praying for more wisdom and discernment has shown me the stark difference between trusting man and trusting God.


Numbers 23:19 says, “God is not human, that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?”

He does not lie, nor does He tell half-truths. Because He honors me with truth, I CAN TRUST HIM.

The closer I draw to Him, I am more able to identify what authentic God trust looks like … kind of like Alice experienced.

Alice’s condition when she was rescued.

Her body heavily encrusted with ridge upon ridge of severely advanced mange, Alice, a street dog, was found laying on a dirty, worn-out bench seat in a dilapidated old work van. With flies swarming about her lifeless, emaciated body, she raised her head to nibble at food offered from the extended hand of a compassionate worker with an animal care organization. He carefully stroked her, slowly gaining her trust.

A closer inspection revealed the parasite-infested wounds that had devoured her skin and turned its surface to stone. With uncertainty in her eyes, Alice warily watched him. She flinched and whimpered as he drew closer and, after a short skirmish, relented and allowed him to shield her eyes and envelop her with a blanket to transport her to a safe, clean environment where care could be given.


At the clinic, medicinal ointment was applied to her rough, scaly body. Her eyes filled with pain, she paced her kennel. Upon her first bath, more bloody sores were revealed. After several days of treatment, the crusty scabs eventually released their hold, and Alice learned she could allow the caregivers to pull the decayed flesh from her body. Within a short time her skin was nearly devoid of the disease, and within weeks, healthy fur began to emerge. There was growth and healing, and a happy Alice emerged. With a grateful wag, she thanked her healer who had risked his own safety to rescue her.

Just as the animal care worker did with Alice, our compassionate, loving God gently led me away from the disease of disbelief, bound my wounds, and convinced me that in Him I can place my trust.

Who do you trust?

Make us a part of your daily reading at Breath on Paper. 

img_9181-1Pam Weyant recently traded the harsh Midwestern winters for the sunny South.  When she is not spending her time as a freelance court reporter, you will find her loving up her adorable cocker spaniel, hiking, traveling, writing creative nonfiction, or working out.  Her passion is sharing her story so others can join her in celebrating the freedom found in a redemptive Savior



One thought on “Trusting Like Alice

  1. First of all, I enjoyed this entry. Secondly, for those who think they know you, I think it natural we try to impose specific people into your entries. A mistake I’d guess, but natural I believe. Regardless, one cannot read your posts without KNOWING your thought process is well considered ‘and’ correct.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s