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Earthquakes? No Biggie. Wayne Can Handle It.

It's the middle of the night. I hear a noise I don't recognize. I'm wide awake.

This is a serious problem. Not because the noise is scary. Not because the noise itself is so loud or irritating that it will keep me awake. It's a problem because until I've identified what the noise is, I won't be able to sleep.

My mind will give me no rest, not one eensie-weensie moment of rest, until I've identified the WHY or WHAT is causing that noise.

This is not unique to noises. I am this way about everything. I have an insatiable need to know and understand. Especially concerning people.

Socially, this can cause me to be about as welcome as fly-paper. I ask a lot of questions. I'm constantly probing for the 'why' behind people's actions. I'm a real hoot at parties.

The need to know is sometimes even more important than taking action on what I've learned. It's the curiosity that drives me. Once I've attained the information, I'm content.

I have been known, without any exaggeration, to hear a noise in the middle of the night that I finally determined to be a fire in my home, and once I made that determination, happily fell back asleep. (I was wrong, by the way. There was no fire. But the fact that I thought there was, and fell peacefully back asleep anyway, is a constant source of amazement to my husband.)

When I encounter a situation or a noise that I really can't figure out, I enlist help. Usually from Wayne. Here's how this plays out in the middle of the night.

Me: "Wayne, what was that noise?"

Wayne: "What noise?"

Me: "That funny banging noise that just came from the garage."

Wayne: "The cat jumped off the car on to the plastic tote."

Me: "Oh."

Pause

Me: "How do you know?"

Wayne (slight irritation showing in his voice): "Because that's what that sounds like."

Pause

Me: "Why was the cat on the car?"

Wayne (rolling over and putting a pillow on his head): "Because it's warm."

Pause

Me: "Why is the car still warm?"

Silence.

Me: "How long does it stay warm for? Is the engine running too hot? Why doesn't the cat like his bed?"

Silence.

Me: "Sorry. Goodnight honey. I love you. Really sorry."

Silence

Me: "Why do I always do this? Why do I ask you a million questions in the middle of the night?"

Silence.

Me: "Oops. Sorry."

My track record with the need to know is long and deeply entrenched. And yet, last Sunday, it appeared as though the times, they maybe a changing.

Here's what happened.

It was 9:35, and I was finishing my hair and makeup for 10:00 AM church. (Who am I kidding? I had just gotten dressed, my hair was still wet and wrapped in a towel, I couldn't find my makeup, and I was simultaneously brushing my teeth and shouting for someone to help me locate my shoes.)

Suddenly, there was a really strange noise. Like a rumbling. But deeper. And it was coming from very, very close.

There's a train that runs near my house, and at first, I thought it must be the train - but the noise didn't last long enough.

Then I thought perhaps the kids were moving the dining room table to make room to play Wii, and the rumbling was the sound of the furniture legs being pushed against the wood floor - but the noise lasted too long for that.

And then I had the most shocking thought.

I thought, "Whatever it is, Wayne can handle it." And I went back to brushing my teeth.

This may be the first time in history that I didn't know what a noise was and I just let it go.

The only possible explanation for this crazy behavior on my part is that I so completely trust my husband that regardless of what was causing the issue, I knew he could take care of it. So I didn't need to know or understand what had happened. I left it up to Wayne.

Later that day I noticed that a friend had posted something on Facebook about an earthquake. My need to know led me to instantly google earthquake records, and sure enough, we had experienced a really minor earthquake that morning.

Which I thought was pretty amusing. Because while the entire earth under my feet was moving and shaking, I was thinking, "No biggie. Wayne can handle it." I giggled a little at the silly image that popped into my head of a superman Wayne that could hold the earth together in his superhero arms.

And in that moment, God whispered to me, "You know, you could trust me like that."

I felt the conviction of His words wash over me.

For the 32 years I've been loving and following God, I've needed to know and understand everything. Every noise. Every person. Every circumstance. And when I don't know, or don't understand, I lose my peace.

And after being married only 14 years, I've developed enough trust in my husband that I can hear an earthquake, not know what it was, completely expect him to take care of it, and never lose my peace.

Why don't I have that same trust, that same security, in God?

When I can't figure out my circumstances, when I can't understand someone's problem, when I can't know what's going on, I lose my peace. I lose sleep. I fret. I worry. I pray anxiously.

And yet God, who actually DOES hold the earth together in His arms, has proven to me to be faithful, in control, and completely trustworthy.

There will be many things in this life that I don't understand. God's ways are too lofty and too grand for me to figure out. But I trust Him. He tells me that He'll provide for all my needs. He tells me that He'll work all things together for my good. He tells me that He cares for me more than the sparrows.

Meet    
    Cory

Messy Hospitality
Hit the Ground... Waltzing
Where Have I Been? (Living Without Hope)
Confessions of an Imperfect Christian Mom
He Was With Me

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