The inevitable follies and trials of life have their way of testing our trust in God. When life doesn't proceed as we would like and pain and failure pay us an unwelcome visit, it behooves us to discern God's will by asking Him, "Are you trying to show me something through this situation?" Asking for His wisdom and insight can help us to trust that in every situation, God seeks to benefit our souls.

Jesus said to us through St. Faustina Kowalska, "I am Love and Mercy itself. When a soul approaches Me with trust, I fill it with such an abundance of graces that it cannot contain them within itself, but radiates them to other souls" (The Diary of St. Faustina, 1074).

Conversely, Jesus shared, “Distrust on the part of souls is tearing at My insides. The distrust of a chosen soul causes Me even greater pain: despite my inexhaustible love for them, they do not trust Me. Even My death is not enough for them. Woe to the soul that abuses these [gifts]. (Diary, 50)

Recently, I was praising God while driving my familiar route home after seeing a counseling client who had suffered through an abortion. She had just opened herself up to God's mercy, and the glow on her face had sent my heart soaring—soaring so high that when I stared up into the clouds to give thanks to God, I failed to heed the stop sign below.

do you lose your trust in god

"May I see your license, please, Ma'am?"

Fumbling through my glove compartment, I searched for documentation that I was still a decent, law-abiding citizen, showed my proof to the officer, then threw out a couple desperate Hail Marys as he walked back to his flashing car. No miracle granted.

Pouting the rest of the way home and consoled only by the "glee" that thoughts of traffic school can bring, I neglected to ask God if He wanted to show me anything. Instead, I grumbled with faltering trust, "Thanks for letting the enemy crash our party."

Then a couple of months later, I got in my car and drove for an hour-and-a-half to St. Sebastian's Church in Novato, California, in order to attend my friend's daughter's First Communion Mass. When I arrived, I pulled into an empty lot. Strange. Then while staring inconclusively at an empty church, it finally dawned on me—"I'm at the wrong St. Sebastian's!" In an exasperated flurry, I ran to my car, screeched out of the parking lot, and drove forty-miles an hour in a school zone.

"May I see your license, please, Ma'am?"

No way! Really?" This time my upset surpassed pouting, and I cried out, "Why, God!? After all, I'm just trying to get to one of your Masses!" I felt like a poor copy of St. Teresa of Avila, who when her cart tipped, spilling her into a muddy stream, looked to heaven and cried, "God, if this is the way you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them!"

With this second ticket, the intensity of my distress spurred me to ask, "God, what's going on? Are you trying to show me something?"

The answer came quickly. "You need to change your driving habits." That second ticket gave me enough pause and pain to discern God's will, to finally change. And God's answer gave me the grace to finally give Him my trust. We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

When things go wrong, do you lose your trust in God?

Copyright 2013 Christine Watkins