Let it unfold

In 2007, we had just recently moved to Indiana with our four young children when my husband was unexpectedly laid off from his job. Needless to say, it was a stressful situation involving many sleepless nights and prayers of “Why?” and “help!” Eventually, he interviewed for a position in a field he had never considered before. That interview led to a more suitable career, which we are still so grateful for to this day.  

That wouldn't be the last time I lay awake at night with my heart and mind filled with turbulence and doom. In the years to come, I would endure the queasiness and cold terror of countless anxieties—mental anguish caused by distressing uncertainties and the suffering of loved ones I couldn't fix or solve.

Looking back on the troubling incidents I thought would surely end in tragedy, I am amazed at how God not only brought us through them but also humbled, softened, and strengthened me in the process. Oh, but how easily I can forget His faithfulness and jump right back into an anxious perspective at the first sign of confusion or a new trial. This worry, this scarcity mindset, has never, ever blessed or protected me or my family.  That being the case, I’ve developed a new mantra inspired not only by my own past experiences but also by many Biblical examples of confounding circumstances that appeared hopeless before their salvific meaning and redemptive purpose were revealed. When tempted to spiral and despair, I’m working on pausing, deep breathing until my nervous system calms, fixing my attention on Christ and the present moment, and whispering:

“Let it unfold. Glory to God for all things.”

In the book of Genesis, we see how Joseph spent years in prison for a crime he did not commit. Along with his suffering, he faced the uncertainty of whether he would ever be acquitted or see freedom again. I can't even imagine how deeply that tested his patience. It is a challenging example of waiting for God’s mysterious plan to unfold, not in our timing, but His. As much as we want to avoid pain and discomfort, it is only in the waiting that we encounter healing for our vices and spiritual infirmities. But that healing requires openness, attentiveness, and a quiet mind.

“Live simply and without thinking too much, like a child with his father. Faith without too much thinking works wonders. The logical mind hinders the Grace of God and miracles. Practice patience without judging with the logical mind.”

- St. Paisios

 Too much thinking, talking, noise, and distraction fuel our passions and anxieties. When we jump to conclusions, exhaust ourselves in our search for answers, or try to defend our stance and reputation, we lack the stillness to receive the Holy Spirit and His comfort. We allow our fears and pride to shake our faith and extinguish the hope in our hearts and the remembrance of our blessings.

Peace in the unfolding is not only possible but also our calling as Christians. We will not find it in tomorrow, in ruminating, in self-medicating, or in gorging on content and information. A peace that surpasses understanding is like a gentle flame deep within our souls that we must protect and nurture. We must stay close to it at all times, being extremely vigilant of the thoughts, words, and deeds that could snuff it out. I know I’m near it when I feel its warmth- like when I’m loving and patient, when I’m living the rhythms of my Orthodox faith, when I’m silent and prayerful, when I’m creative and hospitable, when I’m content with what I have.

Coldness, restlessness, outrage, and fear are signals to return to that refuge—back to the warmth, back to inner and outer stillness, back to the here and now, back to gratitude and selflessness, back to patiently and obediently entrusting my circumstances to God’s wisdom and providence.  Thy will be done is a life-changing prayer with eternal ramifications. Leaps of faith make room for miracles and transformation.