“Finding Forrester” is a great movie. Sean Connery plays the part of a legendary writer who mentors a young man who has great potential as a writer. Connery tells Forrester to sit at the typewriter and begin typing — just type what comes to mind. Just start.
Think of five frogs sitting on a log. One decides to jump off. How many frogs are left? Five. Thinking of jumping and actually jumping are two different things. Lots of people come to church on Sunday and decide to change, but they never make the change. It is difficult to go from awareness to action. The problem is trust.
A construction crew was putting a drain line in a building. A power cable was directly in the path of their work. Construction stopped while an electrician was called who declared that there was no electrical power to the cable. The foreman asked, “Are you sure the power is dead to the cable and there is no danger?” “Absolutely,” replied the electrician. “Well then, you cut the line.” After a pause, the electrician said, “I’m not that sure.” Most of us don’t take action because we’re not that sure. We are not that sure we can trust God.
Turning over control of your life is tough. It’s like driving. You give the keys to your car to someone else and turn total control of your car to her. If you know and trust her, it’s easy. And what about riding with your teenager for the first time? I have done this three times with three girls. I taught my daughter Angela to drive in Dallas. It’s pretty scary riding with a teenager in Dallas. The first time she drove, we only went around the block. I tried to drive the car from the passenger seat. “No! Don’t do that! Slow down! There’s a stop sign! Watch out for that car!” The more I shouted, the more stressed she got. I’m hollering at her and she’s hollering back at me. It was a miserable ride. Finally we were back at the house; we had made it around the block. Our driveway had an iron gate that was just big enough for a car to fit through. As she pulled in, I was thinking I should tell her, “Don’t hit the gate. Don’t hit the gate.” But then I thought, “I’ve been griping about the way she drives the whole time. I’m not going to say anything about the gate; I’m just going to be quiet.” I kept quiet, and she hit the gate. She was in her mother’s car — I didn’t trust her in mine.
We often do the same thing with God. We give God the keys to our lives, but then we try to stay in control: “Wait! Don’t you see that? Stop! Slow down!” I gripe and mumble and complain and get stressed out. It becomes a miserable ride. Then I go eat a Snickers or ice cream. I have started a vicious cycle. The problem is a lack of trust. I need to learn to trust God.
Let’s say that you have a chance to win $5 million. All you have to do is drive in the Indianapolis 500. You have to finish, but not win the race, to receive the money. You are a little worried, but then Al Unser says he’ll drive the car for you. All you have to do is give him the keys. If he finishes, you get the money. What are you going to do? If you have any sense, you give the keys to Al without a second thought. The amazing thing is that most of us won’t do that in a practical situation. In essence, we say, “Well, Al, I think I’m going to do it myself. I know that I’ve never raced before, and I’ve never driven over 75 mph, but I think I can do it. I think I can finish.” You’d say, “You’re nuts!”
What’s the bottom line? God drives much better than Al; give Him the keys.