The gospel of Mark tells a miraculous story of a woman who had suffered a hemorrhage for twelve years. Twelve years! I can't imagine suffering anything for twelve years, but she did, and she trusted in Jesus so much that she believed she only had to touch the hem of His cloak to be relieved of this suffering. After twelve years, all she needed was to touch the hem of His cloak. And it worked. He turned around and told her "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your affliction." (Mark 5:25-34)
I'm not suffering any such disease. I'm not suffering any disease of the body, in fact, and yet, so often, I fail to trust God for the simplest things. I fail even to take my concerns to Him in prayer, and why? Maybe I'm just lazy, but I have the feeling that it's deeper than that, that somewhere in my heart of hearts, I doubt Him, which doesn't make any sense at all. I trust that He is my Lord and Savior and that He died in my place and for that reason, I am saved from the pit of hell. So why can't I trust Him with the things of this earth? (Didn't know this post was going here, but it did. Hmm.)
This reminds me of that children's song "Count your blessings, name them one by one. Count your blessings, see what God has done." I forget to do that. I need to remember to be as a little child more often.