A lesson in trust

Catherine and I played a game the other day - it was her idea! She hid her drawings around the room and I had to find them. However, I had to find them WITH MY EYES CLOSED as she led me round the room by my hand. It was SO hard. I kept wanting to open my eyes and see where I was going, and I found it really hard to trust that my little girl would guide me around tables, chairs and toys. But Catherine told me I was ok, and that she would guide me. It was still hard, though.

Then, it was Catherine's turn to be led. I hid the drawings, she closed her eyes tightly and said 'Go on, mummy'. I can honestly say I led that child around the room and she didn't open her eyes once. She was so relaxed and content that I would lead her the right way, that she felt no need at all to open her eyes.

This is how it has been through Catherine's treatment. Despite everything, she has trusted me completely. It doesn't matter what procedure, whether it hurts or whether she 'doesn't love it', it is like in that game: she holds my hand and lets me lead her through. She has never disbelieved that it was not for her long-term benefit. She has always trusted.

But it hasn't just been like that for Catherine and her treatment. I have learnt to really trust as well. Catherine's diagnosis has been a real crash course in trusting God. Whatever has happened, I have trusted that God will see us through. I have trusted that God will ease the way and help us miss bumping into the obstacles on the path ahead. And God has kept us protected: He has answered our prayers. Trust isn't easy, but I'm learning how to do it because of this situation. Maybe one day I'll be able to do it keeping my eyes completely closed all the way along.