Absolutely, Positively, Definitely Sure

Absolutely. Positively. Definitely. 100% sure.

I used to think I knew without doubt how to be a wife. A mother. A woman of God. But the older I get the less I know.

Well, not really. But what I was absolutely, positively, definitely sure of in my twenties and thirties, even my forties and fifties, no longer seems quite so crystal clear in my sixties.

I struggle with that a little. Sometimes a lot. Crystal clear seems easier than murky and unsure. I feel comfortable when I can see where I want to go and the best way to get there.

Oops. I feel comfortable when I can see where I want to go and what I think is the best way to get there.

Those words-I want and I think is the best way-define a way of thinking that puts me in the driver’s seat. My plan. My way. Left to my own devices, I make a bee-line to my own goal like a kid doing a cannonball in a pool of people. I only see myself and my own agenda. Anyone-their plans, feelings, and needs-get lost when I close my eyes and jump without thinking.

God tries to teach me over and over again I need His plan and His way. And that means trusting Him even when that plan isn’t crystal clear to me.

I Am Absolutely, Positively, 100% Sure of God’s Plan

I can say with confidence God’s plan is

The only thing I need to be sure of is who holds me in the shelter of His wings. Who knows me better than I know myself. Loves me unconditionally. All. The. Time.

I know exactly where I’m going and how I’ll get there. Through the love and grace of God. That is crystal clear.

Time for #fiveminutefriday with Kate Motaung



Be Present to Persevere

If I truly want to persevere, I need to be fully present. 

They offer wisdom, care, and comfort in a variety of ways. If I’m not fully present, I miss much of the gift God gives. I wallow in my circumstances instead of focusing on the presence of those who willingly reach out to share my burden.

As the day of Van’s surgery came closer, many reached out. But with one friend, I shared the feeling of dread that I couldn’t quite shake. The dread that comes from remembering that doctors were convinced my daughter, Kim’s, surgery would be the answer to ending the strings of infections that caused her to lose the toes on her left foot. The doctors were wrong. The infection they were confident had been eradicated lurked, hiding. It struck with a vengeance, and instead of getting well, Kim went to be with Jesus.

Listening to the doctor now, so nonchalant about this thyroid cancer, the dread stalks me. Finally, I confessed my fears to my friend, Patricia. Her response wasn’t to tell me not to worry. Whenever I saw her, she gave me a hug. She bought me a planner titled, “The Best Year Ever,” and wrote God’s promise of Jeremiah 29:11 on the inside cover:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

She took the time to find me the day before Van’s surgery and prayed specifically not just for Van’s healing, but for my peace.

Because I authentically and vulnerably shared my feelings and fears, Patricia could better give her gifts of help and hope. Her prayers were specific. The wisdom she gave came from her own experiences and God’s Word and related directly to my need. She reminded me of God’s faithfulness in my life and hers.

When I’m weary and overwhelmed, I can choose to isolate myself. How much better it is if I’m part of God’s community. He shows His presence in His people.


Linking today with Five Minute Friday