Psalm 56
I am afraid; I [want to] trust in You
sometime between February 26 and February 28 a mother puts her daughter on a plane from Colorado to Michigan another mother puts her daughter on a plane from Michigan to New York City a third mother - this one in Iran - runs to the middle school where her daughter is huddled in stairwell and crying because we started a war "I am being trampled by people," cries the Psalmist - we are doing the trampling our President vows to destroy Iran's government vows crushing retaliation and mothers vow to send their children into this world because we have to because we want to believe it could be safe because we are afraid and the only act of trust we know is to launch our children hoping they might make a new vow, a good one, a redemptive one because You did it with your Son first.
The repetition of sending daughters into the sky — Colorado, Michigan, New York, Iran — turns headlines into heartbeats. And that line, “we are doing the trampling,” reads less like accusation and more like confession. I also felt the weight of “the only act of trust we know is to launch our children.” That’s such a raw theology of fear and hope intertwined. Psalm 56 doesn’t deny fear; it places trust inside it. I’ve been reflecting on that same tension lately — how surrender can be an act of trembling trust rather than passive retreat. If you’d ever want to continue that thread, I’ve been writing into it here: https://theeternalnowmm.substack.com/p/the-surrender?r=71z4jh