What is the difference between trust and faith? Are they related? Does one lead to the other? Simply, faith can be defined as "belief that is not based on proof". Trust can be called "confident expectation based on proven results, a hope".
So having faith is a submission to an authority not based on track record or likelihoods, but on the sheer identity of the intity or the role in which they hold. It is an act of will power a decision, an option you exercise in submission.

Trust is usually a sound choice based on probabilities. It is usually because of this I will trust or in some cased despite this (hope), I will trust.

Now having said all of that, does trust lead to faith or faith to trust? With the Lord, I believe faith leads to trust because your decision to believe in His will shall be proven and God develops a reputations with us as faithful to deliver, provide, give, love.
Trust can never come before a measure of faith with God. Even if your faith is based on the moving you experience from merely reading the Word of God. A faith is activated in you and grows. I believe it grows through trusting in Him and stretching your faith in "un-proven" areas where He can prove Himself yet again.

With people however, a faith grows out of trust. I don't know if this is the right way to do it, but it is how I see it done. A baby small measure of faith, given by God, that he will be fed leads it to not worry about such issues. However, it quickly learns that mommy will bring the food if I cry and every time I do it. It has worked over and over and he trusts that it will always work.

These sureties lend to a submission to authority based on reliable past experiences. In other words...You are only as good as your name. Joe the Carpenter, John the Shepard, James the farmer. This is what they do and essentially who they are. Are you Karen the lifer? or Mike the thief? Are you June the trouble maker? Or Sarah the gossip?
You might be able to sing or sew or dance or even preach, but if what you are known by is something other than a fruit of the spirit, then you do not carry the name of God.

What is your name?
~

One Woman's Journey

These Shoes Were Made For Walking

I'm so tired. I've been walking a long time. I saw lots of things along the way, and the view was beautiful as I went. The water, the trees, the birds, the grass. I took my boys and they were inspired and pleased. We made plans to return often. While the miles added up on the way there, it seemed worth it to see what was up ahead and around the bend. The anticipation drove us forward. We were glad to work, glad to push and happy to be where we were. I took snacks and drinks, made provisions and documented every experience and sight. I didn't want to forget a thing. We took care of the trail as we walked. Kicking rocks off the road, picking up liter when we saw it, even practicing trail etiquette.

The walk back however seemed different. I was tired, hot and bothered and at times regretting my trip. The trees and flowers I passed on the way the first time seemed old and taunting this go round. The miles were being added and not subtracted and each step was a journey all in itself. Regret and dread hounded me that I had gone so far. I could not believe that I had pushed myself so far that I would have to struggle so hard to get back to my family. I couldn't believe that I had taken my kids along that way too.

The lesson learned? Don't begin a journey unless you have counted the cost of your return trip. At the end of the day it should be worth it.

I have been saved by grace many times. Not just my soul and spirit man, but in many situations in my life. Even before I knew how to walk and how to live, I have been surviving on grace and leaning on mercy. My appreciation to God is enormous because truly I don't deserve his kindness, yet He extends it everyday, big and small.

Forget the Little Engine That Could

Today my son taught me something. We went roller skating, an activity that I do not participate in. I prefer to spare my tail bone thank you very much. He walked into the rink not knowing how to skate at all but with an expectancy to have a lot of fun on the outing. So we got the skates and on carpet he was having a little difficulty but he could see the rink. On he went and down he went. Over and over he fell even before he got out on the floor. So as a concerned mother I told him to hold on to the wall and go slow. Slip, slip, slide, slide. Down he went, not once, but several hard, quick times. Thank God he is pretty close to the floor, but still it must have hurt to hit hard wood in that way. He got up. He fell. He got up, he fell. Not one time did he even think that he would just give up until he could get some adjustable skates (as was suggested). He just went right back out there falling and slipping and falling. Each time getting up and if I can stretch my imagination setting another goal. On came the hokey pokey. This game is played in the middle of the floor. He was yet again determined to make it to the middle of floor and do the hokey pokey. He struggled, and struggle. One second he was up, the next he was down. My little man finally made it out there (with the first 2 verses over) putting his left elbow out and shaking it all about and hitting the ground. His auntie tried to get him to hold onto the wall behind the line, oh no! He had to go to the line and shake it all about! He made it and he did it falling all the way. Never giving up. He suffered a rug burn from holding on to the carpeted half wall and all the while he was trying to keep his feet under him, he would just keep skating and blow on his arm. Gotta love that kind of spirit. I believe he had a goal in his mind the whole time because after 2 hours of falling an holding walls he left the wall and skated all the way around the rink alone, falling some, but never turning back. We he came back to us, he said "Mama, I did it, I went all the way around!" I'm going to tell you that I was so proud of him. Not because he made it around, that I was just happy about. I was proud because at 6 years old, he set a goal, a far off goal, one that contained repeated pain and failure and went about accomplishing it no matter what. He never asked my opinion. Never whined about how hard it was. He never complained about how long it was taking to reach his goal, he just went about doing it. We could all learn from that sort of determination. What is it that you want in life. How many times are you wiling to fail? How much pain are you wiling to endure? When will you cry out 'uncle'? Will you only venture out on the familiar? Or will you like Nicky, try something new and persevere until you reach it?
With rosy cheeks he left the rink with a feeling of accomplishment. He left nothing to be disappointed about. How freeing that must feel.
So, out with that little engine or that ant and his rubber tree plant, I'm looking at how the Lord gave me an in-house example of how to run a race.