09-08-2026, 03:42 PM
https://proverbs31.org/read/devotions/fu...qus_thread
Coexisting With Uncertainty
March 28, 2025
by Taylor Joy Murray
“Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.’ And then the angel left her.” Luke 1:38 (NLT)
It was 3 a.m., and no matter what I did, I couldn’t fall asleep. I felt on edge and pulled the sheets tighter, the chill of my loneliness wrapping itself around me. I wanted to crawl outside of my mind. Although exhausted, I felt restless at the same time. Uncertainty has a way of disorienting us on the soul level. On this particular night, my mind had traveled to some unknowns that felt confusing, unsettling and complicated. What?
Why?
Where are You, God?
Can You explain what You’re doing?
In the still darkness, I was reminded of my smallness and how little I controlled. Do you feel the weight of uncertainty today?
When I turn to Scripture, I wonder if anyone felt this weight more than Mary. In Luke 2, we are brought into her story when she was probably barely a teenager, chosen to steward the enormous calling of birthing the Messiah. As I’ve studied this passage recently, it’s struck me that unlike us, Mary didn’t know the ending to this story. Can you imagine the questions she must have had?
She was a virgin, so how would she be pregnant?
What kind of shame might this bring?
Who was this child?
And what would it cost her to say “yes” to this calling?
These are the kinds of life-altering uncertainties that feel like fingers around our lungs, squeezing out the oxygen. But her response to God’s call has stayed with me: “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true” (Luke 1:38).
She didn’t know exactly what her “yes” would mean. She said “yes” to not knowing. She said “yes” to coexisting with her uncertainty, gently holding her unknowns inside. What might it look like for us, like Mary, to coexist with our uncertainty?
I’ll be the first to raise my hand and say I’d much prefer things fixed, figured out and certain. I don’t like the anxiety and disorder that questions produce. I find myself recoiling from unknowns. There’s a deep sense of security in knowing what, how or why. But we are each invited to join the story of God by fully indwelling the story He has given us, being present to every moment: joy, grief and longing. Rather than grasping for reasons or straining to see a future outcome, I’ve sensed God’s tender invitation into a deeper awareness of today. Right here in the middle of the unknown, midstory, in the messy unfolding of circumstances I don’t understand. When we don’t know the answers to our questions, we can hold our unknowing inside. As I’ve lingered with my questions, honestly naming them in the presence of God’s love and compassion, I’ve found myself more deeply rooted not in certainty but in the deep and unchanging goodness of God’s heart.
Coexisting With Uncertainty
March 28, 2025
by Taylor Joy Murray
“Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.’ And then the angel left her.” Luke 1:38 (NLT)
It was 3 a.m., and no matter what I did, I couldn’t fall asleep. I felt on edge and pulled the sheets tighter, the chill of my loneliness wrapping itself around me. I wanted to crawl outside of my mind. Although exhausted, I felt restless at the same time. Uncertainty has a way of disorienting us on the soul level. On this particular night, my mind had traveled to some unknowns that felt confusing, unsettling and complicated. What?
Why?
Where are You, God?
Can You explain what You’re doing?
In the still darkness, I was reminded of my smallness and how little I controlled. Do you feel the weight of uncertainty today?
When I turn to Scripture, I wonder if anyone felt this weight more than Mary. In Luke 2, we are brought into her story when she was probably barely a teenager, chosen to steward the enormous calling of birthing the Messiah. As I’ve studied this passage recently, it’s struck me that unlike us, Mary didn’t know the ending to this story. Can you imagine the questions she must have had?
She was a virgin, so how would she be pregnant?
What kind of shame might this bring?
Who was this child?
And what would it cost her to say “yes” to this calling?
These are the kinds of life-altering uncertainties that feel like fingers around our lungs, squeezing out the oxygen. But her response to God’s call has stayed with me: “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true” (Luke 1:38).
She didn’t know exactly what her “yes” would mean. She said “yes” to not knowing. She said “yes” to coexisting with her uncertainty, gently holding her unknowns inside. What might it look like for us, like Mary, to coexist with our uncertainty?
I’ll be the first to raise my hand and say I’d much prefer things fixed, figured out and certain. I don’t like the anxiety and disorder that questions produce. I find myself recoiling from unknowns. There’s a deep sense of security in knowing what, how or why. But we are each invited to join the story of God by fully indwelling the story He has given us, being present to every moment: joy, grief and longing. Rather than grasping for reasons or straining to see a future outcome, I’ve sensed God’s tender invitation into a deeper awareness of today. Right here in the middle of the unknown, midstory, in the messy unfolding of circumstances I don’t understand. When we don’t know the answers to our questions, we can hold our unknowing inside. As I’ve lingered with my questions, honestly naming them in the presence of God’s love and compassion, I’ve found myself more deeply rooted not in certainty but in the deep and unchanging goodness of God’s heart.