Her name was Elizabeth Livermore, but we called her Old Faithful.
She was an older, grandmotherly woman with her hair in a low bun, weathered hands, and a slightly hunched back. On Sunday evenings in our church, when the pastor invited the congregation to share a testimony or a word of praise, you could count on Old Faithful to rise slowly to her feet. She always sat a few pews from the front, and after she used both hands to steady herself to stand up, she would hold on to the pew in front of her with one hand as she raised the other hand to the sky.
In her frail yet confident voice, she would thank God for blessing her in so many ways. Her raised hand would move, punctuating her words as she praised her Savior.
As a member of the youth group, I would sit with my teenage friends and snigger just a bit when she would stand up during testimony time. We knew it was coming. That’s why we called her Old Faithful.
I didn’t fully realize it at the time, but Elizabeth had it right. She had a oneness with the Lord that was clearly evident. Although she seemed to be about 100 years old, she had a childlike faith. Simple. Trusting. Thankful. Really, isn’t that what God asks of us?
Trusting Like a Child
In Matthew 11:25, Jesus underscored the fact that we cannot understand His ways while holding onto a proud heart. It’s only when we come to Him like an eager child that we can fully rest in Him.
“At that time Jesus declared, ‘I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.’”
Sitting in that hard pew with only sixteen years to my credit, I hadn’t really experienced life yet. Like many who haven’t reached the two-decade mark, I was pretty sure I had things figured out. Sure, I had grown up in church and said “the prayer” in fourth grade during evening service at Camp Washunga one summer. I knew Jesus loved me, and I was confident in my eternal destination. But my faith was more “cocky teen” than childlike trust.
I hadn’t weathered life’s storms yet. It took some living first. I had to have my heart shredded by my first love, someone I’d thought might be the one. I had to lose my first pregnancy in miscarriage and be left wondering if I’d ever be able to carry a child. I had to watch my active and healthy dad slowly dwindle to mere bones as cancer ravaged his body until he died. All terrible, life-sucking experiences. Yet God was there every single time. And it drew me closer to Him.
He promises us in Isaiah 43:2: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. ”
If you live long enough, you’re going to rack up some scars. You can get angry, question God endlessly, and even choose to run away from Him. You can go through the motions of believing in Jesus, yet still cling to the resentment of the unanswered “Why?” You can also turn to your heavenly Father in the middle of it all and with a trusting heart, lean into Him. Whatever your path, God invites us to honestly come to Him with our anger, pain, and questions.
Doing Life with Our Father
God often chooses not to reveal the “why” of our pain. But He assures us of two things: He will be with us, and He is at work bringing hope and healing.
In 1 Peter 5:10, we are reminded that, “The God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.”
This reminds me that God is gracious, and I can trust Him even when life doesn’t make sense. After fifty-five years of living, I’ve weathered many of those times. But I know God is with me in every hardship that comes my way. I can simply put my hand in His and walk with Him as He gently guides my steps.
Looking back, I realize that Old Faithful had it figured out. Not life, necessarily. But doing life with her Father. I want to live with the steady assurance of a child trusting her Father and being ever thankful for what He has given her—just like Elizabeth. I’d even be okay if some cocky teenagers think I’m a bit much if God uses me to point them to Him.
—Written by Rochelle Traub. Used by permission from the author.
