Nathan the Prophet assumed too much … or too little.  In God’s name, he gave David freedom to build the temple and then found out in the dark dreaminess of night that God really wasn’t granting a building permit to the King. 

Elsewhere (1 Chronicles 22:8-10) there is a suggestion that God wanted a person of peace to build the temple, not a warrior king.  Maybe God understood the gifts and graces of father and son to be different.  In any event, Nathan had to issue a retraction.

In addition to feeling insecure in my faith and daily life, there’s also the sense of insecurity in my prophetic ministry.  What if what I preach or speak in conversation misinterprets the signs of the times?  What if I’m just plain ugly wrong?  What recourse do I have, and what recourse do those persons have who listened to me and heeded my words?

Scripture gives Nathan cover.  How many of us preacher creatures can point to a text in which God plainly tells us how to correct a sermonic error?  Even if I were embarrassed, I would have the satisfaction of knowing that the mistake had been corrected.

I take comfort (I am strengthened, in the sense of “comfort” as “with strength”) in the sense that my security lies in the journey of trusting God.  The pleasure of the journey is the point of the journey in part; the destination provides the excuse for the trip.  Years ago on an auto trip out West, the sight of the snow-capped Colorado mountains sustained us on the long day ride through the hot desert.  The overnight stay in the cool higher elevation was a bonus that only enhanced the memory of the desert journey.

I’ve always been the sort of person who hates to be wrong or mistaken or embarrassed by my words or actions.  That makes for a narrow and confining life!  Within the past few years I’ve been learning in the inside of me that life does not require that I be right even most of the time.  A big part of maturing is coming to terms with the reality that life is characterized by a whole lot of ambiguity.  Trusting God is surely an excellent, though challenging, way to live.

Trusting God gives me permission to be open to growth in me and in others.  Trusting God invites me to find beauty and meaning in all sorts of things in daily life.  Trusting God offers me a clue to the pattern within the seemingly chaotic.  God is love.  Love matters.

Security is claiming the ongoing, kaleidoscopic grace of God.  Security is being on the way in the Way of Jesus by way of loving God, neighbor, and, yes, even myself.