Have you noticed how life seems to be filled with change and uncertainty? I know I can’t be the only one.

I’ve experienced a vast amount of change in my life. Some of it has been welcomed—marriage, the births of my children, new opportunities, and unexpected blessings. Other changes have been very much unwelcome, like the deaths of my mother and sister.

And then there has been—and continues to be— so much in between.

There are the quiet, inward changes that take place in those hidden spaces where God tenderly sanctifies me, revealing attitudes, desires, habits, or ways within me that are not honoring to Him. And there are the enormous outward changes—the ones that alter the landscape of my life and leave me wondering what comes next.

One of those changes came when God unexpectedly redirected my husband and me to move almost two hours away from the place where I grew up and had lived my entire adult life.

It was the place where I had my deepest relationships and fullest Christian community. The place where I had raised my family. The place I had rather carelessly assumed I would never leave.

And I do not like change. At all. So that move was especially difficult for me.

Looking back now, however, I can see so much purpose in it. I can see things God had prepared on the other side of my obedience that I could never have seen from where I was standing.

That wasn’t the first time He had called me to step into the great unknown, but it was one of the most profound because it held so many unanswered questions. Where would we live? What church would we attend? Would we develop friendships as deep as the ones we were leaving behind? What would ministry look like with me living hours away from the team God had just called together to join in His plans?

There were so many unknowns swirling through my mind.

Yet God already knew the answers to every single one.

Fast-forward just over four years, and here we are again. This time, God has made it clear that we are to return home—back to our roots.

As the ministry has grown beyond anything I could have imagined, now reaching people in more than 50 countries, I am incredibly grateful that I will once again be closer to my team—three amazing Christian sisters who have journeyed alongside me as we surrendered ourselves to be vessels God could use.

Together, we watched Him birth a ministry out of our own experiences of His ardent love and transform our stories and those of others into testimonies that could offer comfort and encouragement to others.

But I suspect the ministry is only part of His reason for this move. And I have learned to be careful not to assume I know everything God intends to do. Life has taught me that His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways. Again and again, I have discovered that what God is doing is often much larger—and ultimately much better—than anything I could have anticipated.

Still, knowing that doesn’t make the unknowns disappear.

As I journaled one morning recently, I found myself pondering so many of the questions ahead of us.

We plan to build a small farmhouse on property God unexpectedly blessed us with last year. But where will we live while we build? Can I really live up to nine months in a 400 sq. ft. space? Will our current house sell in time for the builder to begin as planned? What happens if we miss that timeline? Will we have enough money for all the growing needs we already know about—not to mention the ones we haven’t even considered?

And the list could go on.

My mind had been swirling with those uncertainties, along with several unrelated deeper ones.

Maybe you know that feeling too. Do you have your own set of unanswered questions? I am pretty certain we all do if we are being honest.

And what do we do when life is filled with questions that we simply cannot answer?

Perhaps you are waiting for diagnostic results.

Maybe you are waiting for a prodigal child you have prayed relentlessly would return to the Lord.

Perhaps you wonder whether you will ever find the person you will marry, whether you will ever hold a child of your own, whether a fractured relationship will be restored, or whether you will finally be free from the debt that seems impossible to overcome.

Maybe your uncertainty is far more immediate:

Will we have enough food this week?

How will I pay this bill?

Will I still have a job next month?

How am I going to make it through this?

We want answers because answers give us the illusion that we can prepare for everything.

We would prefer a life of certainties.

But God has never promised us a life without unknowns.

Instead, He offers us something infinitely better: Himself.

Jesus said:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear…. Look at the birds of the air: They do not sow or reap or gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?… But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you.” (Matthew 6:25–33)

Jesus never says that our needs are just perceived or imaginary. He tells us that our Father already knows them.

That distinction matters.

Our peace does not come from convincing ourselves that everything will happen exactly as we hope. It comes from knowing that whatever happens, none of it will take our Father by surprise.

Worry invites us to rehearse a future in which we imagine ourselves facing tomorrow’s circumstances without tomorrow’s provision.

Trust remembers that the God who is with us today will already be there when tomorrow becomes today.

As I sat quietly with the Lord that morning, I was reminded of something I desperately needed to remember: While there are many uncertainties in our lives, we belong to a God of certainties.

I may not know what tomorrow holds.

But I know who God is.

I may not know how He will provide.

But I know He is faithful.

I may not know why He has allowed a particular circumstance.

But I know He is good.

I may not know how the story will end.

But I know that He is sovereign over every page.

I know that He loves me.

I know that He will never leave me nor forsake me.

I know that His Word is true.

I know that His grace is sufficient.

I know that He hears me when I pray.

I know that nothing can separate me from His love.

I know that He is working all things together according to His purposes.

And I know that for those who belong to Christ, this uncertain earthly life ends in the greatest certainty of all: eternity with Him.

There is so much I do not know.

But what I do know is greater than what I don’t.

And perhaps most beautifully, amid all the unknowns of life, I am fully known and ardently loved by God.

This serves as a reminder that trust should be built solely on Who we know and what we know.

Trust cannot be built upon circumstances we cannot predict.

It must be built upon the character of the One who never changes. This is why knowing God matters so deeply. The more intimately we know Him, the more confidently we can trust Him when we cannot see what He is doing. As Charles Spurgeon so beautifully expressed, “God is too good to be unkind and He is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace His hand, we must trust His heart.”

Hebrews 11:1 tells us: “Now faith is the certainty of things hoped for, a proof of things not seen.”

Faith is not wishful thinking. The Greek word translated in this verse as certainty or assurance is hypostasis, carrying the idea of a foundation—something substantial beneath us.

Biblical faith is not closing our eyes and hoping everything works out.

It is placing the full weight of our lives upon the God who has already proven Himself faithful.

That is why Scripture repeatedly connects faith with what cannot yet be seen.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Paul tells us that if what we hope for were already visible, hope would no longer be necessary. Instead, “if we hope for what we do not see, through perseverance we wait eagerly for it” (Romans 8:24–25).

And perhaps few people have ever demonstrated this better than Abraham:

“By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going out to a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8).

Not knowing where he was going.

Those words strike me differently these days.

God did not hand Abraham the complete itinerary before asking him to obey.

He gave Abraham enough information to take the next step.

And Abraham had to decide whether knowing God was enough when he did not know the destination.

So do we.

Perhaps that is where you are today. You are standing between what was and what will be, and you cannot see very far down the road. You want God to show you the ending.

Maybe He is inviting you instead to know Him more deeply in the middle.

Because trust grows as we seek Him in His Word, meet with Him in prayer, remember the ways He has been faithful before, and learn to abide in His presence.

None of those things guarantee that He will give us specific answers to all our questions.

But they do something better.

They anchor us more deeply in the One who already knows every answer.

When uncertainty begins to overwhelm me, I have found it helpful to stop asking only, What don’t I know? and deliberately begin remembering, What do I know?

What has God revealed about Himself in His Word?

Where have I seen His faithfulness in my own life?

When has He provided before?

When has He carried me through something I once thought I could never endure?

When has an unwanted change eventually revealed a purpose I could not see at the time?

Remembering yesterday’s faithfulness gives us courage to trust Him with tomorrow’s unknowns.

Maybe one of the greatest challenges of uncertainty is our tendency to mentally live in a day that has not yet arrived.

We run ahead.

We imagine conversations that have not happened, problems that have not developed, bills that have not arrived, diagnoses we have not received, and outcomes God has not revealed.

And then we exhaust ourselves trying to carry a tomorrow God never asked us to carry today.

In my own current season, God has sweetly reminded me to stay in today.

Jesus said:

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:34).

Rather than running ahead of today, we can choose to remain in God’s presence today, with the certainty that He will be present in every one of our tomorrows.

Whatever waits for us there, He will already be there.

So seek Him.

Know Him.

Experience His ardent love.

Love Him more deeply in return.

And learn to trust Him—not because you know everything that is coming, but because you increasingly know the One who does.

Paul reminds us to fix our eyes “not on the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:18).

Today, there are things I desperately wish I knew.

There are questions I would love for God to answer.

There are outcomes I would very much like Him to reveal.

But perhaps faith is not found in finally obtaining enough certainty about my circumstances to feel safe.

Perhaps faith is learning that the certainty of God is enough even when my circumstances remain uncertain.

I don’t know everything tomorrow will bring.

But I know the One who will meet me there.

And that is a certainty upon which I can rest.

Ardently His,

Leah

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