roundabout: how we navigate life’s imperfect situations

On my way to jury duty but otherwise minding my own business, I drove through the roundabout and saw flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

I already have complicated feelings about roundabouts.

It’s been thirty years since I’ve been pulled over, and in my defense the legal speed limit at the time was not what it should have been and they later raised it, thankyouverymuch. So I wondered if this officer was just passing me on his way to someone else.

But no, he pulled over right behind me. I rolled down my window and looked out.

roundabout: how we navigate life's imperfect situations

As he walked up, he was quick to reassure me. “Hey ma’am, I pulled you over because your brake lights aren’t working. I followed you for a while and neither of ‘em went off at the roundabout, it might be a fuse issue.”

“What?” Stunned relief. I passed him my ID and asked, “Is this a good time to tell you one of my headlights is out, too? Because that’s why those aren’t on.” I pointed at the new part Vin had just picked up the day before, waiting in the dashboard pocket.

He smiled; just a warning, no citation. Headlights go out, fuses trip, and life happens. We all have bigger fish to fry, and I even made it to jury duty on time with a couple minutes to spare.

Life is a series of obstacles and other imperfect circumstances: disappointments and frustrations, emergencies and trauma. We need grace and mercy in the roundabouts, and wisdom to know how to move through them.

I have given citations when I should’ve given a warning. Also, I have given warnings when a citation would’ve been much better. We need so much grace and wisdom.

Our family terrain – and probably yours, too – is filled with obstacles. Boulders, caverns, and sudden drop offs, and I don’t know how to bridge them, move them, go around them. While we navigate our own current roundabouts, we have friends dealing with medical crises, custody battles, kids or spouses going off the rails, leadership wounds, and major financial hurdles. So many obstacles to press through.

And while there are plenty of armchair quarterbacks with cheap advice that costs them nothing because they’re not responsible for actually implementing it, there is a real shortage of easy answers that lead to quick fixes. These situations have moved far beyond your basic roundabout; they look more like someone on the DOT took a drunken spree with a steamroller and attempted a series of figure eights.

Here’s what I’ve been confronted with, and the answer probably seems obvious: Will God still meet us when life is so messy? So different from everyone else’s? So off the map, and into uncharted wilderness?

Yes. Of course He does. He is, He will continue to do so.

(I am not referring to deliberate sin or a seared conscience. I am referring to living with the effects of what is often someone else’s sin, or the consequences of our own previous sin, or just the messiness of a fallen world and the cleanup operation we live in.)

We find ourselves in the midst of paperwork, requirements, and systems that we never wanted to be part of. Our house – and some others we know – have security measures in certain places they shouldn’t have to be. We don’t want them there any more than other people want to have to file for a restraining order or other legal protection.

And yet, here we are. Messy times.

But when life is messy instead of straightforward and simple, the enemy often convinces us that we are less than, unworthy, disapproved of, or unable to meet God, minister, or even just do life the way others do because our life does not look the way we thought it was supposed to. Somehow, it feels like we have to clean this up first – which of course is an impossibility. If we knew how to fix this or move past it (dynamite, anyone?) we would’ve done so by now.

These roads have not been straight and smooth. People and life events do not always progress predictably, meet all the prerequisites in perfect order, pass all the tests with high scores. Some are late bloomers, or got a rougher start, and have more roundabouts to navigate.

We are learning about grace and persistence. And also, braking and yielding.

Because God is wanting us to learn about what success really looks like.

So let’s talk about Solomon, and his imperfect start.


Solomon, in many eyes, was a picture of success. He’s known for wealth and wisdom. But that is only part of his story.

Let’s go back to a scene from the beginning:

The people were sacrificing at the high places, however, because no house had yet been built for the name of the Lord.

Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of his father David, except that he sacrificed and offered incense at the high places.

– 1 Kings 3:2-3

Like both kings before him, Solomon was not a perfect leader, and he began with some obstacles. “The people were sacrificing at the high places” – well, that’s bad, because it alludes to idolatry, but the verse says it’s because no house was built for the Lord yet. So this sort of looks like a “you do what you gotta do” situation.

The next verse says that Solomon loved the Lord – so far, so good – and that he walked “in the statutes of his father David” – uhhh, this could be a red flag. It’s the only place in the Bible that this phrase is used, and it’s significant that it doesn’t say Solomon “walked in the laws of the Lord” as it does elsewhere. If you know the full story of David (not the romantic flannelgraph version, but the truth that involves murder, rape, and neglect of responsibility), you know where this is going. Too many horses, too many wives, yada yada.

But at this early point, at least, unlike the two kings before him, Solomon wasn’t an imperfect leader due to his own character flaws and poor decisions. He was in an imperfect situation. This is what he inherited, what he walked into.

Or, you could say, this was the iniquity he lived in.

Wait, what?

We tend to think of iniquity as just meaning “sin” but it’s not quite the same as that, and we’ve talked about it before. To sum up, iniquity is more of a cultural or generational bent; a learned misbehavior. This is just the way things are, the way things are done; this is what we’ve always known and been taught…and it’s not necessarily the right way.

If it’s not good and true, it’s iniquity. We didn’t necessarily choose this imperfect situation; it’s what we walked into, grew up in, or found ourselves in the middle of, beyond our own choosing. It’s not right or okay, but it’s also not necessarily deliberate…and it needs to be dealt with.

But it’s not outright rebellion or disobedience, which is what we generally mean by “sin” (but more accurately termed transgression). So we deal with iniquity differently. And so does God.

At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night, and God said, “Ask what I should give you.”

– 1 Kings 3:5

Solomon was just doing what he could with the circumstances at hand. It wasn’t ideal. It looked bad. And yet God still met him there.1 God didn’t care about appearances, because He knew what was going on in Solomon’s heart.

God is not waiting for us to perfect our circumstances to meet with us and work through us. He’s not accusing us of surface-level improprieties; He’s not insecure and worried that we’ll make Him look bad. He knows our hard situations (read: mindsets, family roots, patterns of thinking, systems embedded in culture) and He is still willing to meet us. In fact, He wants to.

He knows all about the obstacle in the path, and the roundabouts you and I are navigating.

That doesn’t mean God is smiling at sin or excusing a horrible situation, or that we don’t need to do what we can to change those things. In fact, our recognition that this situation is not the way it’s supposed to be – it is avon, crooked, misshapen – is the beginning of turning it straight again. Correction and healing cannot happen in a place of denial.

But it also means we don’t have to change them before hearing from Him. We can’t make the corrections if we’re not hearing from Him in the first place, because we need His wisdom for this.

God meets with Solomon at the high place anyway, and this is where Solomon famously asked for wisdom instead of all the other shiny things he could’ve requested, and God gave him wisdom plus everything else.

Then Solomon awoke; it had been a dream. He came to Jerusalem, where he stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. He offered up burnt offerings and offerings of well-being and provided a feast for all his servants.

– 1 Kings 3:15

After the dream, Solomon changed direction (we could call this repentance – he changed his mind and way of doing things) and faced God’s promise. And then he offered his sacrifices there, instead.


Sometimes we need to move somewhere new or set a boundary or start over to see breakthrough for the situation we’ve been fighting. But we also need to know that the Lord is with us now – in this place, and in these circumstances.

He is the God with us now, not the God with us later when we get our act together and have all the answers.

Some of us have been used to running to the new thing, away from the old thing, feeling like we had to cut ties or start over or move entirely for deliverance. And sometimes we do need to let go and move on.

But it’s not always the case.

Sometimes we’re just running, avoiding, desperate for any change, no matter how much worse it ends up, as long as we don’t have to keep facing this situation, here and now.

But we need to know that the Lord is faithful here and now. In the roundabout, as we are facing our obstacle.

Turn to me and be gracious to me,
as is your custom toward those who love your name.
Keep my steps steady according to your promise,
and never let iniquity have dominion over me.

– Psalm 119:132-133

He is faithful in the land of the living, in the place of our pain, at the table in the presence of our enemies.

If He’s not telling you to move, then stay. Stand. Hold your ground.

In the roundabout, we slow down. We have to hit the brakes to take the curve, and people ought to notice our brake lights so they don’t run into us. Wait, I need to think, give me a second.

Be careful, then, how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.

So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.

Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to one another, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, being subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.

– Ephesians 5:15-21

Others are on their own journey, taking the curve as well, and we all have to yield.

We are navigating the long goodbye to my grandma, a major house repair, and the inability to make someone choose rightly when the consequences of their wrong choices are coming at them fast.

You are navigating your own obstacles: a legal battle, a leader who dropped the ball, a work crisis, a family member whose dumpster fire is spreading dangerously close to your home.

We are learning to ask Him, “Will You show me today how faithful You are in this?” and to wait for the answer.

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
and my enemy will say, “I have prevailed”;
my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

But I trusted in your steadfast love;
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

— Psalm 13:3-5

He has an answer here, now, in this messy situation that looks nothing like it ought to.

He’s not testing us to see how much misery we can handle. He is teaching us to conquer fear so we can see how trustworthy He is.

He is teaching us peace in the place of fear, boldness instead of intimidation, and joy in the roundabout, instead of those curves causing us anxiety and nausea.

We are looking to Jesus because He is the roundabout, showing us the way through.


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P.S. If you want to learn more about iniquity, don’t miss this quick video from BibleProject.

  1. Another great example of this is Esther, who was in a much worse situation (being abducted and forced to marry a pagan king), and yet still God met her and moved through her in faithfulness. This is a terrific post about her story. ↩︎

avoidance: the cost of drag, & how we defeat it

Before we worked from home together, Vin commuted to Anchorage and was gone about 60 hours a week. For most of those years he drove a small pickup. It’s Alaska; everyone has a pickup here.

Handy things they are, except for when it comes to highway mileage. A pickup has a tailgate and a bed, and unless you have a canopy or cover on it – we didn’t – you get drag.

avoidance: the cost of drag, and how we defeat it | Shannon Guerra at Copperlight Wood

Resistance. Opposition to forward motion. You spend more gas trying to get where you’re going just because that truck bed and tailgate are cupping the wind at highway speed.

For years, people told us we should get a commuter car. We knew we should, too, but buying a new vehicle and selling an old one is a pain. Those were desperate days, too much going on, who needs one more thing to do?

So we avoided the change and stuck with the little pickup until January of 2014, when Vin rolled it on the highway during a snowstorm, totaling it.

Then we had no choice: A commuter car it was. And you know what we started saving in gas?

Five hundred dollars a month.

We knew it would make a difference, but we had no idea it was costing us that much. What could we have done with an extra $6000 a year, for those six years?

What else is our avoidance (stubbornness, laziness, resistance, denial, or any other drag) costing us?

Here’s the big question that might save you a ton of time, money, emotional investment, and other resources:

What am I ignoring or putting off that will actually be for my overwhelming good?


Sometimes lost things are found when we let go.

Our days are no longer desperate like they were then. Or, maybe they are, but in different ways: The kids are calmer, but our scope is broader, there’s no steady paycheck, and our schedule is often out the window because our work is way different and almost always changing.

I’m still a writer, but I’m only at the desk one or two days a week lately. It feels weird. And what’s weirder is even with such limited time, I have days when I don’t want to write.

Those days make me wonder if I still am who I was, or if I lost something. Did I drop my calling? Why is it so hard to shift back and forth sometimes? Am I walking in neglect or disobedience? Or am I just tired? (Stupid question. Don’t answer that.)

A single day of feeling supremely off kilter can make me wonder all those things, because I am fragile and human.

That’s the wrong kind of wonder to have. It’s drag, and it’s far more expensive than commuting to Anchorage in a little pickup, because if not caught it leads to brooding, which in turn often leads to all sorts of leading questions and bad conclusions.

The cost is high because it’s our identity and vision at stake.

So here, too, is where we ask: What am I ignoring or putting off that will actually be for my overwhelming good?

And in this case, the answer (for me, at least) is pretty much the same every time: Abiding. 1

If I were abiding in this situation, I wouldn’t be doing the wrong kind of wondering. I wouldn’t be questioning my calling or ability, wondering if I lost it or if it was just a long season that’s over.

I’d have real answers, instead. I’d have peace and grace for the day, instead of anxiety and discouragement.

When I finally confront the issue head on, rather than avoiding it for days on end, striving and struggling needlessly in angst, it takes a whopping five seconds of concentrated abiding to realize what’s going on.

Be honest, Shannon. Ask the question. Put it into words and confess it.

So I do, and it’s another finally-suddenly moment, because that’s when I hear the answer.

You haven’t dropped or lost or neglected anything, Love. But you are not always meant to tell and translate. You also need to soak and receive.

Oh. Duh. Well, that sounds so obvious.

But I’ve gotten so used to the feeling of pressure that I didn’t even recognize it. This happens with all sorts of mindsets, and they become like refrigerator noise in the background of our lives that we don’t even hear anymore.

So listen: What is the noise you’ve been ignoring, or that you’ve gotten used to? We can’t deal with it until we identify it.

When I let go of the pressure to write, that’s often when a torrent of words rush out. Onto the screen, in my phone memo, on any scrap of paper I can find.

Like I said earlier, sometimes lost things are found when we let go.

Oh, that’s where I am. That’s the me that thrives the way You made me to – because I finally looked for where You are in this. I missed the forest for the trees, but You were here all along.


To be fair to myself and honest with you, I can abide in all sorts of things while avoiding the main issue I really need to talk to the Lord about.

I think it’s a common ploy of intercessors; we can procrastinate and distract ourselves by praying for a million other things, and still feel pretty good about our abiding. A friend of ours who led worship for years said it’s the same on that side of the coin, too: If he didn’t want to deal with something, he would worship, instead.

Isn’t it funny how we can use righteous things to avoid becoming more righteous?

And isn’t God gracious to still meet us in our avoidance, and wait for our honesty? Even our ability to face things is grace from Him.

It would be nice to have more grace and peace, though, and get back on track faster.

May grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.

– 2 Peter 1:2

We tend to overuse and gloss over those terms. What do they really mean in the messy situations we’re dealing with?

Grace and peace look like solutions, resolution, revelation, and certainty. They look like security in our identity, steadiness in our calling, and boldness in our obedience.

May those things be yours and mine in abundance. And may we cooperate with receiving them, because God’s generally not going to force them on us while we’re ignoring the issue He wants to address.

To defeat the drag and make forward progress, we’ll need to sell the truck, make the move, call the person, spend the money, ask the question, admit our weakness, acknowledge the problem, confess the sin, set the boundary, etcetera, etcetera. It could be anything. It’s probably on your mind as you’re reading this.

Anyway, whatever it is, if we’re not willing to do it because we’d rather feel the drag against our tailgate (ahem), then He’s generally not going to force that particular answer upon us.

Good news, though: He’s made us for the answer. He knows how weak, exhausted, angry, wounded, confused, overwhelmed, or whatever we are that seems like it’s holding us back.

Seriously, He knows how whatever you are. And He did all the heavy lifting to make us like Him:

His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and excellence.

Thus he has given us, through these things, his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may escape from the corruption that is in the world because of lust and may become participants of the divine nature.

– 2 Peter 1:3-4

You and I cannot participate in the divine nature if we neglect to abide. Abiding is the participation: This is how we know, hear, act, and become more like Him.

It’s how Peter, who wrote those words, went from being an impulsive loudmouth you probably wouldn’t want speaking at your funeral to becoming an older and wiser heavyweight who could handle the spotlight. Both versions were forces to be reckoned with, but only one was fully surrendered and thus able to lead others in that same transformation.


So we don’t want to waste gas, too focused on the problem to do anything to actually solve it.

If we’re putting off abiding – or any other prompting of the Holy Spirit – we’re not changing anything for the better.

Such a bummer. I’m so sorry.

What can we do, then?

First, if this rings a bell, we need to acknowledge our avoidance and confess it. It’s not a huge, drawn out thing. It’s a reality check, and it’s instant: “Yep, I’ve been doing that.”

Then there are several things we can do. But to work smarter and not harder, the best first thing is to ask God: What do I need to do now? And then do it.

I know, the best time to do it would’ve been a long time ago. But the next best time is now.

And one more question to ask Him: How do You want me to see this situation? Because we want to see it the way He does. He’s not discouraged or dismayed over this. He’s not overwhelmed, overwrought, or doing the wrong kind of wondering.

When we’re looking at Him and seeing things the way He does, we see possibilities instead of limits. We stop partnering with fear, agreeing with the enemy, making blanket statements and accusations and assumptions. We stop doing the things that make it worse, and start doing the things that make it better.

Bemoaning that the enemy is winning in different areas or how we feel like we are losing in other areas is a poor strategy for defeating him. It’s a total drag, wasting our resources.

But quick cooperation with His promptings brings momentum. Obedience to God is spiritual warfare. And this is how we win.


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P.S. Our pastor gave a great message here that relates to this topic (starts at 1:09). Bonus: Vin is in a couple of dangerous aggressive super awkward sermon illustrations. 😅

  1. Often for me, writing IS abiding. Journaling, praying, all the thoughts going on paper or screen…I’m talking to and with Him more than anyone else. But after years of writing as vocation and ministry, writing is also work, and there’s the struggle. Maybe there’s a post on that coming soon. ↩︎

trust: where we linger to find joy & wisdom

I spent the last part of April going slowly through Philippians. Not only did this help me remember how to spell “Philippians” (notice: one L, two Ps in the middle) but it also landed me in chapter 4 for three days, which is about 1% of the time I really need to spend there.

Some chapters in life, in books, in the Word, demand us to linger.

trust: where we linger to find joy & wisdom

Philippians 4 is one of my favorites. But this time when I got toward the end of it, I argued a little with God…or, not really with God, but with my old self — my old understandings, old lies, old mentalities that have nothing to do with God, but I used to attribute them to Him. And He caught me doing it again.

We’ve been working on this for a while. And the struggle is actually progress because it means I’m no longer resistant or blind to it, but letting Him transform me.

Here’s the verse I was stuck on:

And my God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 4:19

A few things we have to ask right away: Is this verse in context? Sort of — it’s not to us (it’s to the Philippians, of course). But it is for us, demonstrating God’s unchanging character. What is it telling us? He is good. He is generous. He cares for all of His people, not just the Philippians.

So can we take this as a promise for Him? Yes.

Unless you have an old poverty mentality that rears its head and makes excuses. I did, and it did.

Our home’s heating system needs replaced and we don’t know how it will be covered, but we are trusting the Lord. He knows how it will happen, and on most days I’m not even trying to rack my brain to figure it out anymore. The good news is a) we made it through the winter, and b) now that it’s spring, we can keep the system off as much as possible. But it needs taken care of in the next four months.

When I read that verse, though, an old response popped up in my head: Maybe God doesn’t think replacing our heating system is a need.

Is that dumb? (Answer: yes.) Of course our heating system is a need; we live in Alaska. Even if we didn’t live here, it would be a need.

But the thoughts continued: What if we’re not even supposed to keep this house? We’ve been thinking of moving. Maybe God wants us to make less on the sale of this house, so we have to downsize into something smaller, uglier, boxier, with less land, gross carpet, and an obnoxious neighbor…

It sounds like the Old Responsible Religious voice, but if you listen closely you pick up on the accent and notice the snake’s hiss — the one that says God is not really as good as He says He is, and that He cannot be believed or trusted. Did God really say…?

And this is where the Lord caught me, and confronted me.

He also asked questions, and His questions are different:

Does that sound like it reflects My goodness? No.

Do those thoughts ignite fear, or trust? Fear, for sure.

Do those thoughts lead you in hope, peace, and expectation? Or do they lead you toward striving? Ahhh, striving…give me all the things to do, all the numbers to calculate, all the details to fret over. Been there, hated that, lit the ground on fire with that hamster wheel, and broke the axle.

When I realized the difference, the weight lifted. God is going to take care of this. We don’t have to figure it out; we can trust Him. He will fully satisfy every need of ours, including this one. The other thoughts had started pressing me downward in anxiety, but His correction lifted me in hope and clarity.

Did you forget you are My beloved, Love? Sit with Me, and remember.

When lies are replaced with trust, the clouds lift, the sun comes out, the air clears, and anxiety dissipates.

I could practically hear the sniveling whine as the snake scurried away, defeated at the old game he used to beat me at.


Many of us tend to default toward believing negative lies about God rather than the truth of His goodness and love for us. For some of us, the lies make us feel safe, protected from disappointment, or that we’re suffering enough to be righteous.

Sometimes, the lies are just a bad habit that needs to break.

One of the hardest adjustments during my grandma’s first month in her new home is that since she moved, she believes she is alone and people hardly ever come to see her.

It’s not true; there are always people with her and almost every day she has visitors.

But she does not remember the people, or the visits. And since she doesn’t remember them, she believes they aren’t happening. Gahhh. So instead of believing the truth (which would encourage her), she defaulted in those first weeks to believing what is negative and untrue.

Here’s the irony: She knows she is forgetting, that her mind plays tricks on her. So since she will believe something one way or the other, can we help her default instead toward the positive, lovely, and loving? We’re trying, because it’s what’s true. Even if you don’t remember, we’re here every day with you. You are so loved. We haven’t abandoned you, you’re not alone. You’re never alone. Sit with me, and remember.

When she knows she’s loved and not forgotten, she is happier, chattier, and she shares stories and dry humor. But when she thinks she’s been left desolate, she’s miserable, withdrawn, bitter, accusatory, and complaining.

This is true of us, too. When we think God has abandoned us, doesn’t care, doesn’t think our needs are important, we are tormented. But when we know we are loved, thought of, and tenderly cared for, we are much happier — and we move forward productively rather than stalling out in brooding anxiety or despair.


If the enemy can discourage us into fear, striving, or other forms of negativity, we walk in confusion and miss not only God’s goodness but also His direction and clarity. Or, let’s put those together and use the word wisdom.

Direction + clarity = wisdom. Good so far?

Now this:

The wisdom He gives us is related to our level of joy and trust. They go together, but trust drives the bus.

Happy are those who make the Lord their trust,
who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods.

— Psalm 40:4

For the Lord God is a sun and shield;
he bestows favor and honor.

No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.

O Lord of hosts, happy is everyone who trusts in you.

— Psalm 84:11-12

The goodness of God is the lay of the land, and we need to know how to read the map. Trust is the key to understanding the legend, knowing which way is north, and recognizing pitfalls.

Happy are those who find wisdom and those who get understanding,
for her income is better than silver and her revenue better than gold.

— Proverbs 3:13-14

Those who are attentive to a matter will prosper,
and happy are those who trust in the Lord.

— Proverbs 16:20

We can surrender anxiety because He is good. Because we can trust Him. Because He is better than all our old lies, excuses, mindsets, bad teachings, bad memories, and internal and external accusations.

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad.

O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.

— Psalm 34:1-3

Our thoughts and responses to God should be magnifying Him, not minimizing Him. There is a huge religious movement out there that’s all about minimizing Him and making it seem humble and righteous. (Spoiler: It’s not.)

Without trust we walk in fear while deluding ourselves that it’s jaded wisdom. It’s the same fear that buries the talent because we’re afraid to riskafraid to failafraid to be seen as imperfect, afraid to fall because we know we’re not really able to catch ourselves, no matter how much of a front we put up for everyone to see.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

Look to him, and be radiant, so your faces shall never be ashamed.

— Psalm 34:4-5

We don’t want to be like little kids who really want to go to somewhere but in our restless impatience we make the wait miserable, asking our parents over and over and over if we’re going, when we’re going, why we’re not going yet, and then we sulk in the driveway, kicking rocks until one of them flies into the windshield.

We often delay the answer we want so badly because our distrust is sabotaging the journey.

But when we stop listening to the lies and keep our eyes on who He really is, what He really does, what He’s really said, we know that we can trust His goodness and His timing. He not only meets our every need, but also covers us with peace and joy in the meantime.

This leads us right back to the beginning of Philippians 4, and we linger here:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
Let your gentleness be known to everyone.

(It is hard to be gentle when you’re freaked out and striving.)

The Lord is near.

( He is aware, and not indifferent.)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 4:4-7

We linger in these places of trust, knowing He is doing something in us as we wait: The pages we read, the honest conversations we have, the prayers that sometimes aren’t even articulated words so much as they are attention to the living Word who was and is and is to come.

We usually don’t see the immediate effect of these but the transaction of our time invested in faith accrues to our good, and the good of those around us. This, too, is part of trust. We know there is purpose in what He is leading us to do.

So we believe the things unseen, that He working things out for us and in us, and He is able to do what we are so very aware we cannot do on our own. The wild idea began in Him; He knows how to complete it.

And if we forget, He will sit with us until we remember.



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