A Path of Suffering

I am beginning to learn that suffering doesn't necessarily mean being persecuted for our faith, or being diagnosed with a terminal disease, or whatever we think of as being on the "grand" level of suffering. I, for one, am beginning to understand that suffering is present in our everyday lives, in a broken family, in a broken heart, in a thing as simple as the short word of a friend. These things seem senseless, and they do not follow what we think should be the normal path of life.
Finished reading These Strange Ashes, by Elisabeth Elliot, today, and am certainly encouraged by her words. In it she speaks of her own first year as a missionary, single and dead set on doing the Lord's will. Her words and her attitude of surety that she was doing the right thing remind me of the things that I have felt and said (if even only to myself) over the past year or so. Her heart was set to do the will of the Father, but she had doubts, and she had disappointments, and she had hurts. It is through these doubts, disappointments, and hurts -- in short, suffering -- that we learn who our Lord truly is, and that His ways are best, even when we don't understand them.
I know full well that the thing that God requires of me today is ruthless trust. Trust without hesitation, without reservation, without hindrance, pure and simple trust, like that of a child. Trust that Daddy knows what's best for us. Maybe that's what Christ meant when He said that we must receive the kingdom of heaven like little children.