A Wheelbarrow of Trust

And now, for the rest of the story.

In the late 1800s, an extraordinary spectacle captivated the world. His name was Jean Francois Gravelot, but you knew him as “The Great Blondin.” A daredevil, a showman, a man who defied gravity and fear, all for the roar of the crowd. His stage? The thundering, mist-shrouded chasm of Niagara Falls.

Blondin, a master of the tightrope, wasn’t content with a single, heart-stopping crossing. Oh no. Each time, he  up the danger, the suspense.  Once, he even carried his manager, on his back! The crowds gasped, they cheered, they believed.

After one such incredible feat, Blondin faced the eager crowd. “Do you believe,” he boomed, his voice carrying over the falls’ thunder, “that I can cross again successfully?” A unified roar rose from the crowd: “YES!” Their belief was absolute. Their faith, unwavering.

Blondin, ever the showman, pressed on. “Do you believe,” he challenged, “that I can cross again, this time pushing a wheelbarrow?”

They had seen his previous triumphs. They knew his skill. They had witnessed his mastery. And so, without a moment’s hesitation, they screamed their assent! “YES! We believe!”

The wheelbarrow stood ready. The crowd held its breath. Blondin, with a twinkle in his eye, poised to begin his most audacious stunt yet. But before he took that first step, he posed one final, chilling question to the hushed multitude.

“Which of you,” he asked, his voice echoing across the gorge, “will get in the wheelbarrow?”

 A cold, sudden silence fell over the crowd. The cheering stopped. The belief that had filled the air evaporated like morning mist. These were the very people who had just moments before professed their absolute conviction in Blondin’s ability. They had seen him defy death countless times. They had first-hand knowledge of his extraordinary skill. Yet, when faced with the moment of truth, the moment to act on their belief… not a single soul stepped forward.

They believed he could do it. But did they trust him enough to get in the wheelbarrow?

And that, my friends, is the rest of the story.

Because you see, many of us have seen what God can do. We believe in His power, His miracles, His unwavering love. We have faith. But when He calls us to truly trust Him, to step into that metaphorical wheelbarrow and let Him guide us through the roaring waters of life, through those dark valleys of despair, loss, and fear… do we freeze? Do we, like Peter, take our eyes off Him and begin to sink?

Trust isn’t just a noun; it’s a verb. It’s something you do. It’s faith in action. It’s reaching out and grasping His staff of hope, of never-ending love, knowing that He walks beside you, through the battle, through the darkness.

He looks at you, just as Blondin looked at that silent crowd, and He asks: “Do you trust Me?”