Through Uncertain Times in the Certainty of Love

Hello friend,

A while back, I sent the following message to a friend who was struggling: "The moment we release any sense of wanting to control, I truly feel like the Universe can THEN step in and deliver exactly what we need. I’m trying to welcome uncertainty as my deepest intimacy with God. We are loved beyond our ability to comprehend…and so we can flow in uncertainty within the certainty of that love!"

It’s a beautiful thought, and I believe it deeply in my soul. But living it out? That is a different story entirely.

When I first started writing, I was entirely certain of one thing: I was going to write picture books. I spent years drafting and redrafting manuscripts and paying for professional critiques from editors and agents. A good picture book is usually around 500 words. Mine were never less than 5,000.

I heard the same feedback more than once: "You're a good writer, but maybe you should try writing a novel." Clearly, brevity was not my strong suit. But with three young children running around, the thought of writing an entire novel felt overwhelmingly massive. Every time I considered it, a wave of fear would grip my mind—the kind of writer’s block born entirely from intimidation.

Letting Go of the Need to Know

It took me a long time to loosen my grip on how I thought things should look. Eventually, I eked out the first ten pages of a novel, took them to a conference, and handed them to an agent. When I walked into the room, she stood up—or rather, jumped up and down—and said, "I need to read the rest of this!"

It was the exact phrase every writer dreams of hearing. Except there was no rest of it. That was all I had.

While I had managed to start, a new, louder fear set in: Could I actually finish it? I had to work hard on releasing the panic that held me back. It became a daily decision to be brave. To let fear take a backseat rather than drive the bus. And to simply sit down—butt in seat, fingers on the keyboard—and finish writing that story. That daily choice allowed me to complete the novel and send it to that same agent, who has been representing me ever since.

The Freedom of Being Carried

Looking back, so much of my early resistance came from trying to control a path I couldn't yet see. We clutch tightly to our plans because uncertainty feels dangerous. We overthink our next steps, paralyzed by decision fatigue and the desperate urge to feel entirely ready before we move.

How do we find clarity when the path ahead is entirely blank?

The truth is, we don't need to see the whole staircase to take the first step. We only need to release our white-knuckled grip on the outcome.

When we stop demanding complete certainty from a world that refuses to offer it, something remarkable happens. We stop fighting the current and begin to flow. We realize that we don't have to white-knuckle our way through the unknown because we are being held by something much steadier than our own plans.

That first novel turned into 17 books with 3 more contracted and coming soon. And guess what. Not a single one of them is a picture book. 

A Simple Practice for Your Week

This week, when you feel uncertainty creeping in and the familiar urge to control every detail takes over, try this gentle shift:

• Pause: Take one slow, deep breath and feel your feet flat on the floor.

• Notice: Where are you holding tension? What outcome are you trying to force?

• Release: Whisper inwardly, "I don't have to figure it all out right now."

• Rest: Let yourself rest for just a few seconds in the certainty that you are deeply loved, fully supported, and exactly where you need to be.

You don't have to have it all mapped out to take the next step. Let go of the steering wheel, and let yourself be carried.

Until next time, let your inner light guide you,

Jessica

P.S. You know I love to hear your thouhts! When life feels wonderfully or terrifyingly uncertain, what helps you surrender the need to control?

Hit reply and share your story with me—I can't reply to them all, but I read every single one.