Embracing the Journey

Scripture Reading: Numbers 6

Yesterday was Day 2 of the 30-Day Notice Journey.

And if Day 1 taught me that noticing is not only about catching peaceful moments, Day 2 taught me something harder:

Sometimes the thing you need to notice is where your mind goes when fear gets louder.

The day actually started well.

There is something about this Notice Journey that continues to bring me peace.

I do not have some giant expectation attached to it. I am not waiting for thirty days to pass so I can announce some guaranteed result.

I am simply excited to keep showing up.

Read.

Understand.

Connect.

Practice.

Notice.

There is peace in that simplicity.

But as yesterday continued, my mind became harder to quiet.

The What-If Thoughts Got Louder

A few conversations around work stirred up uncertainty.

Then comparison entered.

That combination can still be dangerous for my brain.

Uncertainty asks:

What is going to happen?

Comparison adds:

Why is something happening for them and not for you?

What about everything you have done?

What if you are being left behind?

And suddenly, someone else’s situation can start feeling like evidence about your own.

That was where I found myself yesterday.

I want to be clear about something, though.

It still was not like it would have been before this journey.

I was noticing what was happening.

I was trying to interrupt it.

My brain was repeating everything I have been learning:

No comparison.

No fear.

Surrender.

You will get out of this.

But the thoughts had more weight than they have had lately.

And looking back, I noticed something else.

I Was Trying to Think My Way Out of the Spiral

I knew the lesson.

I knew what I was supposed to do.

So I kept trying to correct myself.

Stop comparing.

Stop worrying.

Remember what you know.

Surrender.

But something was missing.

I was trying so hard to manage my thoughts that I was not naturally returning to the words that have grounded me for years:

Lord, take control.

That caught my attention afterward.

Because there may be a difference between knowing all the right reminders and actually returning to God.

Sometimes I can know the lesson and still try to carry the work of fixing myself.

Yesterday felt a little like that.

Knowing the Lesson and Returning Are Not Always the Same

That feels important enough to say again.

Sometimes we know exactly what to do.

We can explain it beautifully.

We can even teach someone else how to practice it.

Then a harder moment comes, and suddenly we are wrestling our own brains into submission.

That was me.

I knew the language.

I knew the tools.

Yet my mind was still fighting itself.

The harder I tried to force the spiral away, the more exhausted I became.

I Really Wanted to Stay Home

That evening, my kids’ school had a football game.

It was raining.

I was mentally tired.

And if I am being completely honest, I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

I did not want to see anyone.

I wanted to sit in my own thoughts.

But somewhere inside me, I also knew that staying stuck there probably was not what I needed.

So we went.

We waited for the rain to slow down.

Eventually, we headed into the game.

I was still feeling everything.

I was catching negative thoughts and trying to stop some before they came out.

Some pieces still spilled over onto my husband.

Then he went to get a snack.

For a few minutes, I was standing near the football field by myself.

“Please, God. Help Me.”

I looked up at the sky and prayed something simple.

Please, God. Help me.

Then I saw a dragonfly flying across the field toward me.

I actually had enough time to think:

There is no way that thing is going to hit me.

It hit me.

Straight in the face.

And right near my eye.

Somehow, I did not scream. 😂

I immediately ducked my head and tried to get it off me.

A little while later, my husband came back.

I started telling him what had happened.

And while I was telling the story, another thought registered.

Wait.

That happened immediately after I asked God for help.

I Do Not Need to Decide What the Dragonfly Meant

I have learned enough throughout this journey to be careful here.

I cannot tell you that every unusual thing that happens is a message from God.

I do not know that a dragonfly has some guaranteed spiritual meaning.

But I know when it happened.

Right after I looked up and asked God for help.

And because this entire journey is about learning to notice, I noticed the timing.

That was enough.

I did not need to build some giant conclusion around it.

I could simply smile and think:

Well, that certainly got my attention.

Little by Little, I Came Back

As the game continued, I began talking to other parents.

I laughed.

I became more present.

Slowly, the spiral loosened its grip.

Nothing about my work situation had changed.

No answer suddenly arrived.

But I was changing again.

I was coming back.

And when we finally got home, I almost felt excited to get to my nighttime devotional.

My brain needed grounding.

I knew it.

I wanted Scripture.

I wanted the reminder.

I wanted to write.

Then the Devotional Met Me Right Where I Was

The message centered on something I desperately needed to remember:

God has not carried you this far just to leave you now.

It told the story of an older woman looking back over decades of following God.

Her life had contained good seasons and difficult ones.

Loss and joy.

Prayers answered quickly and others that took much longer.

Yet she could look backward and recognize that she had been carried through all of it.

That memory gave her strength to keep going.

And I immediately thought:

There it is.

That is what I have been learning to do.

Remember.

Return.

Keep going.

I Already Have Places to Look Back To

I have lived through seasons when I had absolutely no idea how life was going to work out.

I have had moments when control was completely gone.

My jail cell.

Recovery.

Loss.

Fear.

Times when the future felt impossible to imagine.

And still, somehow, I am here.

Not because everything happened exactly the way I wanted.

Not because following God suddenly made life easy.

But because I made it through things I once thought I could not survive.

There are moments in my own story where surrender brought peace before circumstances changed.

Times when I had just enough strength for the next step.

Moments when I felt God meet me in the middle of something hard.

Those memories matter.

Especially when my mind asks:

But what if this time is different?

Comparison Was Making Me Forget My Own Story

That realization hit me too.

Some people around me are getting answers.

Their circumstances are changing.

Their paths are becoming clearer.

Meanwhile, I am still waiting.

And comparison loves to turn that into a story:

Look.

They got clarity.

You did not.

They were chosen.

What does that say about you?

But slowing down helped me recognize what comparison was doing.

It was taking my attention away from my own story.

Someone else receiving an answer does not mean God forgot mine.

Their path is not my path.

Their timing is not my timing.

And someone else’s outcome is not evidence about my worth.

Someone else receiving an answer does not mean God forgot mine.

Comparison Turns Someone Else’s Answer Into Evidence Against Your Future

I think that is one of the sneakiest parts of comparison.

Someone else receives something good.

Instead of letting their good news belong to them, fear grabs it and says:

See?

If they got that, what does it mean that you did not?

Maybe nothing.

Their story may simply be unfolding differently.

Mine may require a different road.

I do not know yet.

And maybe I do not need to know yet.

I Can Be Happy for Someone and Still Admit That Waiting Hurts

This matters too.

Faith does not require me to pretend disappointment never happens.

I can know another person has struggled.

I can believe they deserve something good.

I can genuinely be happy that their path opened.

And still feel:

I wish I had some clarity too.

Both can exist.

The goal is not to shame myself because comparison appeared.

The goal is to notice when I start turning someone else’s blessing into evidence of my lack.

Because it is not.

Numbers 6 Ended With Something I Needed

My Scripture reading was Numbers 6.

The chapter includes instructions surrounding the Nazirite vow and a period of being specially set apart to God.

Then it ends with the well-known priestly blessing – words asking for God’s blessing, protection, favor, and peace.

And that last word stayed with me.

Peace.

Not certainty.

Not control.

Not advance knowledge of how everything will work out.

Peace.

Maybe that is part of what I have been learning all along.

Peace can exist while the question is still unanswered.

It can return after a difficult day.

It can coexist with waiting.

It can even exist while somebody else’s path looks clearer than mine.

Then Life Interrupted My Writing

By the time we got home, I felt grounded again.

I wanted to get everything out while it was still fresh.

So I pulled out my laptop.

At the same time, my husband put on a Halloween movie.

Almost immediately, I thought:

This is probably not what my brain needs tonight.

It was dark.

Unsettling.

Definitely not the energy I had just worked so hard to get myself out of.

Still, I started writing.

Then my daughter called.

And very clearly, she needed a mom moment.

So I stopped.

That was the right thing to do.

The blog could wait.

She mattered more.

Eventually, My Brain Was Just Done

After talking with her, I looked back at the television.

Thirty minutes had passed.

I got pulled into the movie.

Part of me kept thinking:

Should I go back to writing?

Another part of me wondered if maybe I should simply be present and stop trying to accomplish one more thing.

Eventually, I watched the rest.

By the end, I was exhausted.

I managed to get a small part of my thoughts down.

Then I fell asleep.

And I woke up knowing:

Return.

Sometimes Returning Happens Tomorrow

I think I needed that lesson too.

Sometimes returning means noticing a thought immediately.

Other times, it means stopping halfway through a spiral.

Sometimes it means getting back to prayer.

And occasionally, returning looks like realizing:

Your brain has nothing left tonight. Go to sleep. Come back tomorrow.

There is grace in that.

I did not fail the journey because I did not finish writing last night.

The lesson was still waiting for me this morning.

So was God.

I returned.

And Then Today’s Devotional Happened

This morning, while I was finishing this reflection, I opened the devotional dated for today.

October 3.

The title:

Joy in the Waiting.

I just stared at the page.

Because that is exactly where I am.

Waiting.

Trying not to compare.

Trying not to let uncertainty write a story that has not happened.

Remembering how God has carried me before.

Then I began reading.

The devotional talked about trusting God in seasons when the future feels uncertain.

It talked about the purpose that can exist in waiting.

It encouraged remembering what God has already done.

It talked about focusing on what is still good instead of becoming consumed by what feels wrong.

I had literally just been writing about those things.

I Was Writing About Remembrance, Then I Was Told to Remember

That one got me.

Yesterday’s devotional had already reminded me to look backward at the ways God had carried me.

Then I spent this morning writing:

Maybe the answer to comparison is remembrance.

And now today’s devotional was telling me to remember again.

To look at what God has already done.

To trust while I wait.

To find joy without requiring the waiting to end first.

Maybe someone else calls that coincidence.

For me?

It felt like another Godwink.

Another quiet:

Keep going.

And this time, I simply stopped and thanked God.

Maybe Joy and Waiting Are Not Opposites

That may be the piece I needed today.

I have spent so much of my life believing joy belonged on the other side of uncertainty.

I will relax when I know.

I will feel peaceful when this gets resolved.

I will enjoy myself once everything settles down.

But maybe waiting does not have to be empty space between me and the life I want.

Maybe life is still happening here.

My family is here.

My faith is growing here.

The Notice Journey is happening here.

There is laughter here.

There are football games.

Dragonflies.

Conversations.

People I love.

Work I still care about.

And apparently, there can even be joy here.

Before I know the answer.

Day 2 Gave Me More to Notice Than I Expected

Day 2 started peacefully.

Then uncertainty got louder.

Comparison crept in.

I struggled.

I tried to think my way out of it.

Eventually, I prayed.

A dragonfly flew directly into my face immediately afterward, which is still one of the stranger Notice moments I have had so far.

Slowly, I returned.

A devotional reminded me that God had carried me before.

Then today, another devotional showed up with the title Joy in the Waiting and told me again to remember.

Somewhere inside all of that, I came back to one thing:

Someone else’s path does not tell me anything about mine.

Maybe the Answer to Comparison Is Remembrance

When comparison says:

Look what they have.

Maybe I answer:

Look where God has already carried me.

When fear says:

What if you have been forgotten?

I can remember the times I thought I would never make it through before.

When waiting tells me:

Nothing is happening.

I can remind myself:

I do not actually know that.

And when my mind tries to build my future out of somebody else’s current circumstances?

I can return to:

Their path is not my path.

Questions I’m Leaving With

What happens inside me when someone else receives something I am still waiting for?

Am I noticing comparison, or disguising it as being “realistic”?

Have I turned someone else’s answer into evidence against my future?

Can I celebrate another person without using their path to judge my own?

What has God already carried me through?

Which moments from my past remind me that uncertainty did not destroy me?

When I spiral, am I trying to manage everything by myself?

Have I remembered to return to God?

What might still be good in my life while I am waiting?

And can I allow myself to experience joy before I know how the story ends?

Today’s Takeaway

Waiting can make comparison loud.

Someone else gets an answer.

We are still waiting.

And suddenly our minds start filling in blanks God has not filled in yet.

Notice the Comparison

Do not shame yourself.

Simply recognize it.

I am comparing right now.

That matters.

Check the Story

Ask:

Does their outcome actually tell me anything about mine?

Am I making their timing mean something about my worth?

Is this a fact?

Or is fear filling in the blank?

Remember Your Own Story

Look backward.

What have you already survived?

Where have you experienced provision?

When did you once think you could not make it through – and yet here you are?

Let those memories have a voice too.

Return to God

You do not have to perfectly think yourself into peace.

Sometimes the prayer can still be:

Lord, take control.

Return there.

Release Their Path

Their answer belongs to their story.

Their timing belongs to their story.

You can celebrate another person without treating their blessing like a verdict on yours.

Look for Joy While You Wait

Do not postpone your entire life until the answer comes.

Notice what is still good.

The people.

The moments.

The growth.

The laughter.

The quiet reminders.

The dragonfly that flew straight into your face when you asked God for help. 😂

Whatever is actually here today.

Because maybe faith in the waiting is not pretending the uncertainty does not exist.

Maybe it is remembering Who has carried you before, trusting that the story is still unfolding, and allowing yourself to find joy while you wait.

Until next time… keep noticing.