Henri Nourwen painted an unforgettable picture of patient trust. He did so by writing about a group of Trapeze Artists that became very good friends of his. He learned that the flyer must have a confident dependence on the catcher. For as the flyer is swinging high above the crowd, the moment comes that he has to let go of the trapeze. When he arcs out into the air, that
moment must feel like an eternity. It's as if he were suspended into nothingness - too late to reach back for the trapeze, too soon to be grasped by the one who will catch him. Henri learned that the flyer cannot accelerate the catch, for in that moment his job is to be as still and motionless as he can. The flyer must never try to catch the catcher. He must wait in absolute trust that the catcher will catch him. He cannot flail in anxiety. In fact if he does, it could kill him. His job is to be still and to wait, and to wait is often the hardest work of all.

Does that not perfectly portray how vulnerable faith often feels? To let go, to wait for God to catch you, to appear to some that you are suspended into nothingness? However, the arms that will catch us have been faithful through the ages. We cannot be the catcher, we cannot by our own power grab the manifestation of that which we are believing for. Nevertheless, it is not nothingness we are suspended into as we patiently wait for Him, but we are firmly standing on the solidity of He who remains faithful to the end.

"Be gracious unto us; we have waited for you, oh Lord: be our arm every morning, our salvation also in the time of trouble." Isaiah 33:2 ASV