Trisha Mugo

Real Grace. For Real Life.

Quit Trying to Be God’s Co-Pilot

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“Mom, where are we going?”

Apparently, I’ve raised kids who have turned into backseat drivers. So, I exhale trying to channel a little patience.

“You don’t have to know everything. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

I totally get it. On road trips, I’m the one who likes to ride in the front seat and give directions—if I’m not driving that is.

Maybe I’m a bit type A, I don’t know. I just like efficiency.

Today I was praying for my ministry and found myself trying to plan out my future. I envisioned God opening doors and found myself mapped out how that would affect my life.

Then it occurred to me just what I was doing. I don’t have to make a name or place for myself.

I don’t have to drum up opportunities for speaking or writing. All I have to do is walk through the doors God opens.

Then I remembered all the crazy detours I’ve been on in my life–how God has worked everything out for good. Can’t I trust Him with my future, every bit of it?

God is the driver on our journey, and we’re not even fit to unfold the map. For me, I have so much more peace when I envision myself as the kid in the back seat.

He’s driving, not us, and He wants for us to see the scenery and thank Him for the snowcone. He wants us to enjoy the ride and ask him to turn up the volume on our favorite song.

He’s a good God, and He’s taking us to good places. Even when we heckle Him every five minutes with, “Where are we going?” or “Are we there yet?” He doesn’t mind.

It’s not a perfect analogy and perhaps it sounds a bit naive to suggest it. But what if we discarded the idea that we can co-pilot and navigate with God.

Would our lives be simpler or more joyful if we just embraced the view from the back seat and decided to spend our energy enjoying the ride because we know that God is going to take us to where we need to go?

It takes radical faith that is willing to go where our adventurous, creative God wants to take us.

I’m praying that we can learn to enjoy the ride.

Blogging While Afraid

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I begin this blogging journey stricken. I fear writing. Afraid my truth, the way I see God and the world, won’t resonate. I panic to even look at the “publish” button. I am coward. I am running away. My 31 years on Earth echo my silence.

Petrified to be called a “hack,” “out-there,” or “super spiritual,” these labels pin me, paralyze me. Reverberating in my mind, they’ve hemmed me in for too long.

Today I grow steel vertebrae, and seeds of gumption and courage begin to root. I chase faith. Or does it chase me?

I laugh. God too is probably laughing at me, all lily-livered in front on my computer agonizing over which WordPress theme to choose. I suppose the words I write matter half as much as this seminal step into darkness, not knowing where this will all lead.

Yaweh’s taking me on a faith journey. Like an obedient toddler, I go where He leads me. Craven or bold, He’s never far away, so I will keep walking. As you read this, I’ve talked fear down and walked my way out of the boat to follow Jesus.

I listen, pray and stumble, but grace comes. Grace always comes. When I posture myself in front of this grace, faith supplants fear.

Now my faith rises like a nearly full moon. The orb seems whole, until you behold its splendor the next night—then you see it complete, fully glowing.

Today my faith begins to eclipse fear. I dare to write, to publish, to be scorned or adored. I risk failure and success.

Although the act of writing spells solitude, I know I’m not alone. I invite you to take this journey with me. Watch me hone my writing craft. Listen to my exegesis, no matter how profound or simplistic or flat out wrong I may be.

I will ask, ponder and think aloud. I will wonder and wander. I know the God of all wisdom, and I know He is able to lead me into all truth. This blog will seek truth and beauty in the One who is all-together lovely.

I pray you see Him on these pages and that His life—lived fully in me—calls out to you, in your deep places, thin places or barren places. May Grace abound to you as you let him carve your strengths out of the raw material of your weaknesses.