Twasn't me, 'twas the Lord! I always told Him, 'I trust to you.

Hear now the words of Harriet Tubman, a woman forged in the furnace of suffering, yet radiant with unshakable faith. She declared: “’Twasn’t me, ’twas the Lord! I always told Him, ‘I trust to You. I don’t know where to go or what to do, but I expect You to lead me,’ an’ He always did.” These words are not spoken from theory, nor written in the quiet comfort of study, but carved from the wilderness of slavery and the peril of freedom’s path. They are a testimony, eternal and shining, that true strength is not born from self alone, but from a higher trust, a surrender to divine guidance.

What does it mean to say “’Twasn’t me, ’twas the Lord”? It is the recognition that mortal hands are weak, yet when joined with the eternal hand of God, they are made mighty. Harriet Tubman, who led hundreds of enslaved souls from bondage into liberty, did not credit her cunning, her courage, or her strength. Instead, she declared that her victories belonged to the Lord, who whispered in her spirit when to move, when to hide, when to press on. Her power was not in knowing, but in trusting, not in commanding, but in following.

Consider her journeys along the Underground Railroad. Time and again, she guided weary fugitives through forests and swamps, pursued by men with hounds and weapons, their lives hanging by a thread. She herself could not see the path ahead. Yet when she paused, when she prayed, when she surrendered her fear to the Lord, a way was opened. Streams crossed safely, enemies passed by unseen, and hiding places appeared as though the earth itself conspired to protect them. Each deliverance bore witness to the truth of her words: “I don’t know where to go or what to do, but I expect You to lead me.”

History echoes with others who walked this same path of trust. The children of Israel, led by Moses, stood before the Red Sea with Pharaoh’s army at their back. They did not know the way, nor what to do. Yet when the command came, the waters parted, and a path was made through the impossible. Tubman herself was called “Moses” by those she rescued, for like the prophet of old, she led her people not by her own wisdom, but by the voice of God guiding her steps.

O children of tomorrow, understand this: human strength may falter, human wisdom may fail, but the soul that yields to a higher power walks with invincible courage. To say “I trust to You” is not weakness, but the highest bravery, for it acknowledges that life’s great journey cannot be navigated by sight alone. It is an act of faith that transforms fear into action, despair into hope, wandering into purpose.

What lesson then shall we take? That in our own lives, when we are lost, when the road is hidden in shadows, we must dare to surrender. Do not cling to the illusion of control, nor despair when the way seems blocked. Instead, be as Harriet Tubman was: pause, listen, trust, and move forward when the inner voice of wisdom speaks. In that trust lies a strength greater than any fear, a compass truer than any map.

Practical action is this: when you rise in the morning, whisper as Tubman did, “I trust to You.” When you stand before decisions too heavy to bear, surrender them into hands greater than your own. When fear grips you, remember her journeys, where each step of faith carried not only her but whole generations into freedom. Let your life, too, be a testimony that He always did—that guidance comes to the trusting, and deliverance to the steadfast.

Thus, the teaching is clear: it was not Harriet alone, but the Lord within her courage. And so with you—it will not be you alone, but the strength of faith moving through you. Walk in this, and your path, though dark to your eyes, will shine with light enough for every step.