Edited by Jim McCrory, Monday 11 August 2025 at 12:09
The Quiet Certainty That God is in Control
One thing that strikes me regarding Biblical Hebrew is the clarity and conciseness of the language. Take the word בִּטָּחוֹן (bitachon). It carries with it an entire world of thought fay beyond the concept of the translator’s pen. It’s “trust,” “confidence,” or “assurance.” It finds its roots in the verb batach: to lean upon, to feel safe in, to rely on. It’s more about posture than emotion. Like resting on an unshakable object. This something is not luck, human ability, or philosophical mainstream though, but the living God.
Is there something deeply troubling you as you read this? The psalmist speaks from experience in coping with life’s curve balls, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in You… In God I trust; I shall not be afraid” (Psalm 56:3–4).
Here that word bitachon is not denial of fear in some kind of magical thinking exercise but the decision to place it all in God’s hands. Isaiah 26:3 frames it as a state of peace: “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” It is a settled spirit, anchored in the character of God.
For me, this trust has become more than an abstract truth. During my life, I have learned that God’s reassurance often comes in ways so personal, so specifically timed, that they cannot be dismissed as coincidence. There are moments when a verse of Scripture arrives unbidden. It may be a passage I was not looking for, and yet, yet it speaks directly into the difficulty before me. At times, the guidance is not merely comforting; it is practical, offering a clear course of action.
It is in these small, precise miracles that confidence grows. Each time I see His word meeting my need so specifically, my confidence in His care deepens. Like an ancient mason laying stones into the wall of a fortress, each answered need, each unexpected provision, strengthens the structure of trust. Over time, trust becomes less of a conscious effort and more of a reflex; an instinct to look to God first, knowing He has never failed me.
In the ancient Jewish mind, bitachon was not a vague optimism. It was the tranquillity of one who has entrusted his life to God’s wisdom, believing He will do what is right. My own experience affirms this. There are days when His reassurances are subtle — a single phrase from the Psalms that lifts the heart. Other days, they are bold and unmistakable, like an open door that had seemed sealed shut. The more I lean on Him, the more I recognize His fingerprints.
In the end, bitachon is not the absence of uncertainty but the presence of Someone greater amid it. It is knowing that the God who sends the right word at the right time is the same God who governs the unseen workings of the universe. I rest secure because I am in His care — and I have learned that when He whispers reassurance, it is not merely to comfort me in the moment, but to train me for a deeper trust tomorrow.
The Quiet Certainty That God is in Control
The Quiet Certainty That God is in Control
One thing that strikes me regarding Biblical Hebrew is the clarity and conciseness of the language. Take the word בִּטָּחוֹן (bitachon). It carries with it an entire world of thought fay beyond the concept of the translator’s pen. It’s “trust,” “confidence,” or “assurance.” It finds its roots in the verb batach: to lean upon, to feel safe in, to rely on. It’s more about posture than emotion. Like resting on an unshakable object. This something is not luck, human ability, or philosophical mainstream though, but the living God.
Is there something deeply troubling you as you read this? The psalmist speaks from experience in coping with life’s curve balls, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in You… In God I trust; I shall not be afraid” (Psalm 56:3–4).
Here that word bitachon is not denial of fear in some kind of magical thinking exercise but the decision to place it all in God’s hands. Isaiah 26:3 frames it as a state of peace: “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” It is a settled spirit, anchored in the character of God.
For me, this trust has become more than an abstract truth. During my life, I have learned that God’s reassurance often comes in ways so personal, so specifically timed, that they cannot be dismissed as coincidence. There are moments when a verse of Scripture arrives unbidden. It may be a passage I was not looking for, and yet, yet it speaks directly into the difficulty before me. At times, the guidance is not merely comforting; it is practical, offering a clear course of action.
It is in these small, precise miracles that confidence grows. Each time I see His word meeting my need so specifically, my confidence in His care deepens. Like an ancient mason laying stones into the wall of a fortress, each answered need, each unexpected provision, strengthens the structure of trust. Over time, trust becomes less of a conscious effort and more of a reflex; an instinct to look to God first, knowing He has never failed me.
In the ancient Jewish mind, bitachon was not a vague optimism. It was the tranquillity of one who has entrusted his life to God’s wisdom, believing He will do what is right. My own experience affirms this. There are days when His reassurances are subtle — a single phrase from the Psalms that lifts the heart. Other days, they are bold and unmistakable, like an open door that had seemed sealed shut. The more I lean on Him, the more I recognize His fingerprints.
In the end, bitachon is not the absence of uncertainty but the presence of Someone greater amid it. It is knowing that the God who sends the right word at the right time is the same God who governs the unseen workings of the universe. I rest secure because I am in His care — and I have learned that when He whispers reassurance, it is not merely to comfort me in the moment, but to train me for a deeper trust tomorrow.