This morning, there was supposed to be a blood moon. It was raining. I stayed at the pier anyway. I always stay. There's a particular kind of faith required when you show up for something you were promised and the sky gives you nothing.
trust
Standing in Uncertainty
I've been a planner my whole life. I carried an essay about my future from elementary school into my thirties, and every time God didn't deliver it on my timeline, I blamed the Strategist. This time, the storm is worse—and for the first time, I'm not angry at Him. Something is shifting. I'm learning to stand in the fog.
When the Sun Returns (Inside and Out)
Four mornings in a row, I showed up at the pier to see nothing. But I wasn't really seeing nothing, was I? I was witnessing God's faithfulness in the fog. This morning, after four days of grey, pink threaded through purple across the water. The sun rose today, outside and inside. God is faithful like that despite the fog, or perhaps because of it.
Between the Rocks: Finding Sanctuary in the Waiting
Sanctuary isn't the absence of uncertainty. It's not found in answered prayers staying answered or circumstances finally settling into place. Sanctuary is the practice of returning to God in the midst of unknowns—the daily choice to sit between the rocks and seek the Rock.
Writer's Growth 