A Posture of Trust
Written by Alison Hoekstra, Fellows Class of 2026
Going into Fellows, I was ecstatic to learn about every aspect of life, faith, love and work from incredible and wise teachers – I knew we would have great opportunities to explore and absorb as much as we could about how to serve and live faithfully in the world (or, at least in this city). I was also excited to be able to articulately, comprehensively and memorably consolidate everything I had learned into one perfect image that encompassed it all.
Turns out, that’s not how it works.
It’s not a new thing for me to hope for a grand takeaway. I’ve always expected the Lord to reveal to me a memorable life lesson in every “important” moment or experience (bonus points if there’s imagery for a potential tattoo involved!), but even in the most convicting or powerful experiences, I am often left without many definite thoughts, let alone words to articulate them. Which often leaves me discouraged.
I build up the days where we’re talking to a cool person in the community or sitting in solitude, ready to hear the voice of God telling me exactly what I need to know and how to write it down. However, most days I’m met with confusion, tiredness, more questions, sore muscles, conversations with friends on a walk or on the couch or in the kitchen, a little time for art or coffee, tears, fears, joys and gratitude – and hardly a takeaway!
But perhaps we’re not meant to remember everything or exist in a perpetual state of spiritual high. In fact, I think what the work of the Lord favors in our hearts is showing up daily, with open hands. All too often, I try to grasp too tightly to all the words and lessons swirling around me, attempting to catch them all and not let go, even trying to claim them as my own. This only makes me drop them more quickly and clumsily, failing to see His beauty in the small moments of that day.
Recently, I was gifted the metaphor of sand through my fingers. Trying to squeeze the sand so tightly it cannot escape would be foolish. (Have you ever tried to hold a fistful of sand?). Instead, holding your hands open to let some fall through allows you to see what sticks: no effort of your own required. This is the image of trust.
There will be some things we miss – some experiences we go through and don’t know exactly what the “point” was. That’s okay. Other thoughts will land in our palms, only if we don’t try to grasp for them.
This year in Fellows is teaching me, a little more, what it means to trust. Trusting His words will be said by not thinking so hard about mine, trusting His plan by taking one step at a time, trusting His love by showing up daily in small habits and practices, like prayer or coffee. It might not be a huge deal every day-- and in fact, it probably won’t be. But I’m learning to trust again that God is in control and it’s okay that I’m not.
So here’s one small thing He’s left in my hands so far during this year of exploring and discerning and wondering: life’s not about making the “right decision”, having the “right words”, or discovering the “right takeaway”. It’s about realizing that God is with us on the journey. No matter where we go or what we do or how often we try to take matters into our own hands, He’s there and He loves us, and He’ll speak to us if we humbly listen.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6
