Chess is a fun game to play. But God is not my opponent. Fearing what potential struggles might lie ahead in my life and planning ways to avoid them is about me taking control of my life instead of living by faith. Whatever lies in the future, I know that God will provide me strength. I rest in his promises and pray that this would be my heart’s prayer and song, “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The LORD, the LORD himself, is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation” (Isaiah 12:20).

I played a game of chess with my youngest son recently. He’s still learning how to develop his strategy. He started to pick up one of his pieces to move it and then stopped. “If I move him there, you are going to move yours there and take my pawn” he said. “You are right” I responded.

Playing a game like chess involves strategy and anticipation. You have to look ahead to what move you think your opponent will make and decide how you will respond. And for each piece you move, you have to predict and anticipate how the other person will then counter that move.

This is often how I treat God. I try to anticipate what he is up to in my life. I look ahead to all that might go wrong and try to plot, strategize, and plan how I will respond.

Fear in the Driver’s Seat

In fact, I found my heart doing this recently as I thought about an upcoming family mission’s trip we have planned this spring to Central America. As I considered this trip, my mind went straight to all the things that might go wrong. I thought through all the potential illnesses my children could pick up and made a mental note of medications to pack. I thought about all the things we won’t have access to and fretted about how to squeeze it all into our suitcases. As my mind wandered down the meandering rabbit trails of the future, I felt tense and uneasy.

Fear. It’s a frequent guest and a strong motivator in my life. It tells me to look in its crystal ball and take a glance into the future. Even though I know I can’t see into the future, I try anyway. I anticipate all sorts of catastrophes. I imagine trials and challenges. Heartaches and losses.

Had I joined Caleb and Joshua on their trip to spy out the Promised Land, I most likely would have joined in the fearful proclamation about giants and insurmountable odds.  This is how I look at the challenges in my daily life. When my kids struggle with their behavior, I fear that we’ll not be able to help them, that it will get worse, or that I won’t have the wisdom to address it. When life gets busy and the tasks are large, I think I’ll never accomplish what I need to do. I fear the mountain of responsibilities will collapse on top of me. When the doctor orders more tests, I imagine all the potential outcomes and then despair that I can’t handle them. My daily mantra becomes, “I just can’t do it. It’s too much and I’m not strong enough.”

So fear takes the driver’s seat and tells me what to do. It says: plot, plan, and prepare. Like the man in Luke 12 who fills his storehouses for the future, I think that the more I prepare, the better I will be able to face what lies ahead. I feel secure in my plans, trusting in my own strategies and preparations.

Trusting God’s Promises and Faithfulness

The problem with my attempts to predict the future and plan ahead for whatever comes is that I am trusting in myself and not in God. I think it’s all about me and what I can do, how I can get through my supposed foreseen trials. But it’s not. God promises to give me just what I need for each and every day. “But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you” (Luke 12:28-31).

What God provides is sufficient for that day. “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23). Like the manna in the wilderness, I can’t store up strength for the future and expect it to be there. The more I worry and plan for the future, the less I am trusting in the One who holds the future. Like the Israelite’s years of desert wandering, my own life is a lesson in trust. Will I trust him for each day? Will I rely on his daily supply of what I need? Will I believe that he is greater than any future trial that may come my way?

The song of my heart needs to change its tune. I need to sing of trust rather than fear. I need to believe that he’ll give me just what I need when I need it. I need to stop looking into the future and instead live off his daily provision of mercy. It’s true that I am not strong enough but God doesn’t expect me to be. He expects me to draw from his rich resources, not my own. He calls me to come to the fountain and drink from his fresh supply of mercy and grace all throughout the day, not from my own sources stored in cracked and leaky vessels.

Chess is a fun game to play. But God is not my opponent. Fearing what potential struggles might lie ahead in my life and planning ways to avoid them is about me taking control of my life instead of living by faith. Whatever lies in the future, I know that God will provide me strength. I rest in his promises and pray that this would be my heart’s prayer and song, “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The LORD, the LORD himself, is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation” (Isaiah 12:20).

Christina Fox, a graduate of Covenant College, is a member of Treasure Coast Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Stuart, Fla.