I’ve said before that this space would be a mix of things – thoughts, curiosities, longer reflections, questions, and maybe some answers. Some days what comes out is a 3,000-word essay. Other days it’s a fragment of an idea, a passing thought, or a line I can’t quite shake.
Today it feels like something different again: a poem.
I didn’t sit down planning to write poetry – it’s just what came out as I tried to put words to the way I’ve been feeling recently. Life has its share of uncertainty at the moment (I know I’m not the only one), and writing this helped me name that out loud. But let me be clear: I’m okay. I’m not falling apart. I trust God to keep leading me, even if I can’t yet see how it all fits together. This is less a cry of despair and more a snapshot of honesty – and maybe you’ll find yourself somewhere in it too.
For Uncertain Times
How long will the ground feel shaky beneath my feet?
How long will I stand at the edge of what’s next,
not knowing which way to turn?
The days stretch on and I count what is left:
more questions than answers,
more fog than clear paths.
I speak of vision but feel the sound of silence.
Yet I remember – that even in emptiness,
new life can begin,
that history tells of hope rising from unlikely places,
that human beings often find strength they didn’t know they had.
So I will wait, though waiting feels heavy.
I will trust, though trust is trembling in my hands.
I will write, though words fall fragile and small.
I will speak, though my voice shakes.
And maybe, just maybe,
in the stillness,
in the silence,
there is more than emptiness.
A presence unnamed.
A mercy that carries me when I cannot carry myself.
So I say again – not with certainty, but with hope:
I will keep looking for tomorrow’s light
breaking through today’s shadows.
I don’t know what you are carrying into this week. Perhaps it’s the same sense of uncertainty I’ve been feeling, or perhaps something very different. But if these words resonate with you at all, let them be a reminder: you’re not alone in it.
Faith, for me, doesn’t always look like confidence or clarity. More often it looks like choosing to keep going when the path is foggy, to keep looking for light when the day feels grey.
So yes, I’m still trusting and still learning how to wait with hope. And maybe these words can help you wait with hope too.
Josh | A Curious Follower
This is what A Curious Follower is about – creating space for honesty, curiosity, and hope in the middle of everyday life. If something in this has resonated with you and you’re not already a subscriber, why not join the community? You’ll receive future reflections straight to your inbox, and be part of a space that’s still growing, still asking questions, and still learning to pay attention together.
You’re also welcome to share this with someone who might need it, or add your own words in the comments. No pressure – just an open invitation to keep walking curiously alongside me.