Perhaps one of the biggest challenges that faces anyone in the process of growing up emotionally is that of learning to trust. It is such a simple sounding word but such an enormously complex reality and integrating trust into our lives in a healthy adult sort of way can be a challenge indeed.

There is a good deal that goes into making up such a trust. It has to include a presumption of goodness in others. It has to include a presumption of ability in others. And it has to include a certain surrender of control over one’s own circumstances.

I think it was Gabriel Marcel who once wrote that there is a difference between hope and expectations. Expectations, he said, are in terms of particular projects, particular outcomes, a definite, detailed plan for what should or should not be. And as such, they are necessarily a narrowing thing, they tie us down to too small a world, too small a range of choices.

But hope on the other hand is simply an unconditional trust that God will lead us lovingly, and for the best, in any setting. A trusting hope urges us to set aside, in a sense, our own definition of what is good and bad, acceptable or not, and take on instead God’s, even when that is not very clear to us sometimes.

In the Gospel, some of the apostles tell Christ that he had better start to wrap up whatever it was he was doing as the day is coming to an end, and the thousands of people gathered about him are going to need to find themselves something to eat before nightfall. And Christ’s response to that is, “Let’s feed them ourselves. Tell the people

to sit down.” Now, it is not too difficult to imagine the apostles standing there with polite smiles on their faces, looking at each other and thinking, perhaps not too quietly, “Now that is about the dumbest idea I ever heard. This simply won’t work.” But being respectful men, the most they say is something like, “Perhaps it has escaped your attention, but we don’t have anything to give them. We only have five loaves of bread, and a few fish, and that is really not even enough for the twelve of us.” And Christ responds, “It doesn’t have to make sense. Most of life doesn’t. Just do as I ask.”

And of course, it was only after the twelve baskets were filled with the leftovers that the apostles really saw what had happened. It is only in hindsight that we can clearly see God’s care for us. That is another reason for suspending judgement now. A Christian has all of eternity to use hindsight. When we finally can look back on our lives and see clearly how God has led us, it will be from the vantage point of God himself.