Certainty

After a delightful hiatus from life during which I attended BYU's Women's Conference with my darling mother and two older sisters, and attended the wedding ceremony of a dear friend, I find I'm ready to renew my identity as a blogger.

And what do I have to say? Everything and nothing, really. I've had several significant and meaningful conversations over the last few days. Personal conversations. Conversations about the future. Conversations about life in all of it's glorious uncertainty. Conversations about goals and dreams and plans - and about the obstacles that often seem to tower mountainously in the way of those goals or dreams or plans. Still, all of these conversations have been about faith and hope and certainty as well. They have been conversations about a kind of peace I'm coming to know in my life. Peace I feel at times when it really doesn't make sense to feel peace. Peace that very literally "passeth all understanding."

At unsettling times in my life I sometimes wish I could melt into the secure and naive existence my two year old child is living. (I can hear her in her bedroom, humming and talking with her stuffed "am-i-nals" in a sing-song voice, saying things like "We L-ove you, Giant Bear," and "Oh, Green Bear. Nice-a-see-you-in-a-day!") And yet, I know that giving up the insecurity of my adult life for the care-freedom of childhood would mean giving up the certainty I treasure as well. Certainty that is born, in a way, of uncertainty - because uncertainty is often what makes us reach and stretch and question and study and yearn for that which is sure, that which is certain.

I'm grateful for certain knowledge that the God of Heaven is my loving Father. I'm grateful for the certain knowledge that my out-of-control life is in His omnipotent hands.

So what does all of this reflection boil down to? I need to do my dishes. Trusting that God knows and loves me. Trusting that, gace for grace, he will help me to do hard things. The way He helps all of us.