Learning to cling to God
By Jessica Brodie
We know we’re supposed to turn to God in times of trouble. But we are human beings, filled with pride and surrounded by other people and so many, many other voices telling us what to do. These are good voices, too—pastors, psychologists, well-meaning friends, even our own God-given intuition and insight.
And so sometimes, in seasons of trouble and pain, instead of clinging to God, we seek relief elsewhere. We try new schedules and routines, new perspectives, new fitness tricks, new ways of eating, new forms of grace for ourselves and for others.
All of these do help, as does time. Time always seems to settle the crashing waves of chaos back into the gentle lull of normalcy.
But then the waves begin again, and we find ourselves floundering once again in a repeating cycle, lost at sea and seeking relief anywhere but in the One who can grant that relief.
That’s when learning to cling to God is the only thing left—and the only thing that really works, in the end.
I’ve learned this lesson, though in many ways I’m still learning it. I’d love to be able to say I always lay all my troubles down at the cross and find rest, every time. But many times, I leave some of the burden there at His feet, keeping just enough back for me to handle. In my human pride or foolishness or both, I suppose I want to feel like I can control some things, manage some things. And yet all it spirals out, eventually, until that tidal wave begins to loom once again, bigger and bigger.
And yet again, I realize how very small I am, just a tiny piece of God’s great glory in all the world, and I realize how futile my efforts always are.
Without Him, I am lost.
Without Him, I am broken.
In John 15, Jesus tells His disciples He’s the source of health, life, success, and ultimate glory, and that only when we remain in connection with Him can we, too, thrive and blossom. “I am the true vine,” Jesus says, “and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. … No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” (15:1-2, 4-5 NIV).
This was a powerful metaphor for the disciples especially, a people who were far more accustomed to the natural world than many of us are today. I buy my food at the grocery store, and I am not a gifted gardener. These men knew about vines and growing things, about the cycles of life hands-on. But even this “city girl” understands, from keeping houseplants, that the lush green leaves are only there because of their connection to the main plant. If I were to take scissors and snip off one of those vivid green leaves, it would shrivel up and fade away without its source.
That’s how we are without Jesus. If we’re connected to Him, we’re growing and thriving, producing pretty green leaves and sometimes lovely flowers, too. But if not, we’re like that one sad snipped-off leaf, slowly drying up and fading away to nothing.
In times of trouble, we can feel much like that one sad snipped-off leaf. In fact, the devil tries his level-best to make us feel we are that leaf, alone and lost, disconnected. That’s a lie.
For we are connected to the vine if we truly believe, and in Him, we have life. In Him, we find rest. In Him, we have salvation.
Are you in a time of trouble, suffering, or despair? Instead of pulling away, try snuggling back in, toward God. Try clinging to Him only.
For “we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28 NIV). He will make all things right.