Yes, it was finally Saturday. As a twelve-year-old child, it was a day I always looked forward to. Saturday would mean no alarm would wake me up for school. It would mean I would have some flexibility as to what my day would hold. It would mean that my sister, brother, and I could go out and work on the fort we were creating in the backyard. It would mean mom would probably make a big meal and even bake a delicious treat for us. Yes, it was finally Saturday and I knew it was going to be a good day.

Not soon after I made my way downstairs from my bedroom, my Dad asked me to meet him out in the barn. Now, one might think that this would throw a wrench in the Saturday I had planned in my mind, but I actually loved hanging out with Dad in the barn. He had a way of making me feel like I was useful; he had a way of making me feel like I was needed out there in the barn. So, eager to see what he had in mind for me, I scarfed down my breakfast and headed for the barn.

When Dad saw me coming, he went over to his workbench, grabbed a hammer, some nails, some signs, and put them all in a bag. What in the world would those items have to do with me, I wondered. Reading my body language and facial expression, Dad was quick to grab one of the signs out of the bag. It was a small brightly painted orange sign that simply read “NO HUNTING”. Still unsure of what this sign had to do with me, I eagerly waited for him to explain

“Misty, I need you to ride your bike over to that field,” he continued as he pointed down the road, “stop at each one of the telephone poles, reach as high as you can, and pound these signs into each one of the posts.”

With that said, he smiled, handed me the bag and went back into the barn. Wow, I thought, this is a big job. This is a big responsibility. And it’s a big deal because this is something my Dad trusts me to do without any help. My excitement momentarily turned to anxiety. Am I really old enough to do this on my own? Can I reach high enough up the pole? What if my skinny arms don’t have enough muscle to pound the nails into the poles?

A bit nervous for the job ahead, I got on my banana seat bike, wrapped the bag full of my “tools” around the big handlebars, and peddled off as if I had just been given a secret mission that was going to save the world.

Many years later, and even into adulthood, I would drive by that field and notice that some of those signs were still posted. There they hung, exactly the height that this twelve year old could reach while stretching up on her tippy toes. The words had faded some. The nails were rusty. The orange was no longer shining brightly. And yet, the feelings of what that day held for me were still tucked deep within a heart that would forever be thankful for a Dad who called on me to accomplish a job. A job where He provided me with the bag of “tools”, with the most insightful tool being trust. The trust that a father had in knowing he had equipped his little girl with everything she needed to be successful on this mission. It was the unseen “tool” that made her realize that if he believed she would be successful, then she indeed, would be successful.

Have you ever been given an assignment by someone and doubted that you were equipped to accomplish it? Has the trust that someone placed in you helped you realize, that yes, you really could accomplish that assignment? I think God often does this very thing to us. When He does, I often feel like my twelve-year-old self who was given the assignment of hanging the signs. At first, I hear God’s “job” and am excited about what it might involve. I mean, after all, it is the God of the universe requesting that I join Him in a project. How cool is that! And then I have that part of me that questions whether I will really be able to complete the job. Really God? You want me to do. . . what? What qualifications do I have? Why would you choose me? Yet, regardless of what it is that He is requesting, He reminds me that I can trust Him, because He who has called me to the job, also fully believes that I am equipped by Him to carry out the mission.

Today’s Prayer:

Heavenly Father, I will admit that sometimes I get anxious and nervous, and even question whether I am qualified for the calling you have placed on my life. However, today, I lay aside any anxiety and nervousness, and ask that you replace it with trust. I am ready to step forward into your plans, trusting that you have prepared me for everything you have asked of me. Amen