Decisions can be daunting. As I get older, I find myself facing more and more decisions. Knowing my decisions lay the foundation for my future, I often find myself afraid of messing up.
The natural thing to do when faced with a decision is to talk about it with someone else. But I’m learning an important lesson: people usually don’t know the answer.
For the past several weeks, I’ve been contemplating a big decision. Naturally, I’ve discussed this decision with numerous people. However, different people give me different responses. One person says this, and another person says that. In other words, if I listen to every voice, I find myself in a handful of different situations at the same time. And that means confusion.
I had the inclination to read in Deuteronomy this morning—not my first choice. Hey, I’m just being honest. The Apostle Paul is usually more interesting than Moses.
So I opened my Bible to the fifth book and began reading. In only three verses, God revealed something to me I hadn’t before realized. Let’s take a look:
Do you ever have trouble trusting God? I do. But God has led me to a helpful Bible verse, and I’d like to share it with you.
“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him” (Psalm 62:5 NLT).
Four words really stick out to me in this verse: all, wait, quietly, and hope. My intention is to study the above-mentioned verse in depth. In this way, each of those four words can be fully grasped in the context of God’s Word.
A 2016 Kia Sorento occupies a space in the garage of a person I know.
Okay, okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Duh! That’s what all cars do.” Let me rephrase that statement: It only occupies a space in the garage.
It’s probably on its second tank of gas in over a year of ownership! The wheels are spotless, the car is scratch-less, the engine – barely used – is powerless.
Twenty minutes – that’s how long I’ve been sitting in front of a computer screen trying to think of something to write. To be honest, I’m not sure how long my eyes have been fixated on this outdated version of Word. Maybe it’s been fifteen minutes. Maybe thirty. I should have tried harder in keeping track of time. But if I don’t move-on, I’ll be lingering in the abyss of worry until midnight.