“You do not need to know precisely what is happening, or exactly where it is all going. What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith and hope.”
JOHN 16:16-33
JOURNAL
The pattern is painfully clear throughout Scripture. A king rises with humility, seeks God, listens to wise counsel—and God blesses him. But then, with success comes drift. The pursuit fades. Obedience becomes optional. Ego replaces trust. In 2 Chronicles 24, King Joash starts strong under the influence of the priest Jehoiada, but after Jehoiada's death, Joash listens to flattery instead of truth. He abandons the temple, ignores the prophets, and ultimately orders the death of Zechariah—the very son of the man who had guided and protected him.
Why does this happen so often, not just in them but in me?
I start with good intentions. I trust God. I seek Him. And then, when things begin to go well, I slowly drift—subtly replacing God's voice with my own logic, the Spirit’s prompting with the world’s affirmation. Like Joash, I forget the kindness and faithfulness that once sustained me. I begin to listen to voices that say I’m not enough, that I’m missing something, that God’s way isn’t sufficient. It's the echo of the Garden all over again—the lie that I need something more than what God has already provided.
And yet, Jesus speaks to this very tension in John 16. He acknowledges the trouble, the scattering, the inevitable loneliness that comes when we drift or suffer or doubt. But then He says something stunning: “Take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
Not you have overcome it. Not your plans will fix it. I have overcome it.
That’s the invitation. Not to figure everything out. Not to have a five-year spiritual forecast. But to show up, to be faithful in the moment I’m in. Jesus promises peace not in the absence of trouble, but in the presence of Himself. That’s what makes the moment sacred, not its predictability, but its proximity to God.
Proverbs 3:5–6 becomes more than a proverb in that light. It becomes a lifeline:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Not clear. Not easy. Not painless. But straight. Directed. Covered.
Today I don’t need to know what’s next. I just need to resist the urge to run ahead or turn away. I need to recognize the holy possibilities of now—and embrace them with courage, faith, and hope.
Because the battle isn’t between success and failure.
The battle is between trust and self-reliance.
And only one of those roads leads home.