I Trust You

“He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” — Colossians 1:17

As I sat in the middle of a new space—one filled with uncertainty, a life that looks very different from what I once knew—I found myself in a quiet in-between.

And yet, deep within me, something began to settle.
To steady.
To gently comfort my soul.

Not because everything around me made sense…
but because the One who holds all things together was still holding me.

A question rose in my heart—
not one I needed to answer, but one that felt like a gentle reminder of what I already knew…
a reality present even here, in the in-between.

The Question

Do I really believe that He is holding all things together… even here, even now? Can I remain in a place of rest and assurance that He really is?

A quiet recentering—
not on what feels uncertain or what has been lost,
but on what has never shifted…
on the One who was before it all, and who remains through it all.

On Him.

Because He is not only present in my life—
He is the very One sustaining it.

He is the essence of life—of all life.

Our breath—something we so easily take for granted—
is a gift we have never had to create or sustain on our own.

Our bodies and creation quietly testify to His care:

bones that hold us,
blood that carries life,
lungs that fill and empty without our command.

And even now…
they continue—held together by Him.

The sun rises and sets, just as it was designed to.
The moon follows, gently lighting the night.
The stars stretch across the sky, bringing beauty even to the darkness.

All of it—
held together by Him.

And I can’t help but think…
if He were to remove His hand, everything would simply fall back into the nothing from which it came.

And yet—He doesn’t.

He sustains.
He holds.
He remains.

And maybe this is where my gaze should focus

not in striving…
but in seeing.

In recognizing that every breath, every moment, every unseen detail
is already being held together by Him.

And in that knowing…
I can release to Him what I was never meant to carry on my own.

So here, in this space, I begin in the only place I know to begin—

with Him—
the One who holds it all together.

Sitting with Him.
Being still with Him.
Letting my heart turn more and more toward Him.

Not out of obligation…
but out of a quiet trust—

a trust that is slowly teaching my heart
to rest in the One
who has been holding me all along.

Prayer

Lord,

I pray for the woman reading these words—whether today or sometime down the road.

Would You meet her right where she is and gently reveal Yourself as her Source?

And as she begins to rest in that truth, would You help her release what she’s been carrying—
not all at once, but little by little—into Your hands.

Remind her that You are the One who never grows weary,
whose love never wavers,
and whose care for her runs deeper than she may even realize right now.

Remind her as you are reminding me, to trust you.