2 GOOD 2 B TRUE

Have you ever had that feeling that something is too good to be true?  And what's the old adage?  "If it sounds to good to be true, it probably is."  Didn't everyone's mother tell them this? 

There's always a catch, right?  Usually, I refer to that as the 'fine print'.  Or that really annoying, super-fast voice that comes on after the too-good-to-be-true offer was just made, to immediately disqualify every one who's breathing.  But no purchase necessary.  That's nice to know. 

So often we demand proof.  We have to see it to believe it.  Ah yes, you've no doubt heard this one too, "Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see."  Is it any wonder we are a pessimistic society, lacking in trust? 

I used to ask my children if their homework was done.  Of course it's done.  "Show me."  If it was truly done, they would proudly produce their papers, chin out, shoulders back, as if to say, "I told you so," without really saying it, because that would've gotten them in trouble.   And if it wasn't done, I could tell immediately, because they would hang their head and shuffle away in defeat, knowing that they had to finish it before they could show it to me. 

Recently, I had to threaten to ground my 15 year-old son if he didn't get his bedroom picked up and do his laundry.  When he appeared a few minutes later, I raised one eyebrow and looked at him.  "What?  It's clean!" 
"Uh huh...lets go see." And he followed me up the stairs, laughing all the way.

I pushed the door open...I could see the carpet.  I had forgotten what color the carpet actually was in that room.  It was too good to be true.  I immediately swung open the closet door, expecting a landslide of sporting goods and smelly socks to come piling down on top of me.  It was tidy.  No waterfall of junk.  Now it was definitely too good to be true.  So I hit the floor and pulled up the bed skirt in full confidence that somehow he had managed to stuff everything he owned under a full-sized bed.  Two wrappers and one sock was all I found.  He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, smug grin. 
"Happy now?"
"Nice job."  I think I was in shock.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could always trust that things were just as they appeared? If our kids said their homework was done—and it actually was? Or if their room was clean, and they weren’t just stashing the mess out of sight? Ah, that’s the dream, right?

But here’s the question: Do you naturally trust people until they give you a reason not to? Or do you think trust has to be earned?

Some of us say we have “trust issues” and don’t trust people easily. But really? Think about it. Have you ever flown on a plane? Been in an elevator? Crossed a bridge? If so, you’ve trusted people you’ve never even met. You trust the pilot flying the plane, the workers who built the elevator, the engineer who designed the bridge, and even the doctor who puts you under for surgery.

And yet, we struggle to trust God—the one who offers us peace and promises to carry our burdens. 

Why is that?

One of my favorite illustrations is the story of an old hobo hitchhiker. He’s standing on the side of the road with a heavy pack over his shoulder, looking weary and worn. A farmer drives by and offers him a ride in the back of his truck. As they drive along, the farmer looks in his rearview mirror and is shocked to see the hobo still sitting in the back, pack on his shoulder, refusing to lay it down. He had the chance to rest, but he carried the weight anyway.

Does that sound familiar? We do the same thing when we refuse to hand our burdens over to God, insisting on carrying them ourselves. But here’s the thing: God’s promises may seem too good to be true—but they aren’t. If you need proof, just look at the Bible. It’s full of God’s promises and all the evidence you need to believe He has your best interest at heart.

So, go ahead—lay it down.

Be blessed.