Is trusting God a lesson that both sticks and still needs repeating?  

Do you hum when you’re nervous? That tends to be my unique default.

While vacationing in the Grand Teton National Park, we gave our children the option to kayak a lake or ride horses up through the mountain trails. Without hesitation, our oldest chose the lake, and my husband happily joined her. Anticipating adventure, I headed toward the stables with our other two.
 
It was the kind of day you wish you could put in your pocket and keep. The scenery was picturesque, and the horses were impressive.  Upon signing the necessary waivers, we met our guide and were handed the reins.  My reins were attached to a solid black, extra-tall horse named Victor. At the guide’s whistle, Victor stepped forward, and for reasons unknown to me in the moment, placed me in front of my children.  

The trail started gently, a lazy continuum of rolling land. Relaxed, I talked to God and made note of the wildflowers. Then a steep turn took us to the right.

The right made me nervous! I watched as our guide’s horse climbed up what he referred to as a small hill, but I would call the side of a mountain. Ever chatty when I’m nervous, I began to hum.  

I was unaware of Victor’s thoughts; he kept to the task at hand. I don’t know what our guide was thinking either, but he obviously sensed my nerves and welcomed my small talk. He explained that Victor had boldly stepped forward, because he tended to try and pass on the narrow trail overlooking the mountain if other horses were in front of him. I refrained from pointing out to our youthfully confident guide that his horse was in front of me! But the real why-didn’t-I-choose-the-lake-moment came when I asked what he was carrying. Without hesitation, he said, “bear spray.” I further asked if he had used it, my intent being ever or at all. Smiling and turning up the trail, he replied, “Not today ma’am.”

I recall thinking, “Terrific! I can barely look left, I’m watching Victor’s feet with every step, and now I’m scanning the woody wilderness for bears!”

Thankfully, God knows and understands me. Our guide may have been surprised I was humming (possibly singing) the alphabet song, but God surely knew that it was a coping skill to distract from all the what-if scenarios in my brain.

Ever the mom, I allowed myself to turn in the saddle to see my children. And by turn, I mean glance over my shoulder. The image that greeted me silenced my humming. Our son, unaware of bear danger and oblivious to the trail’s edge, was reclining on his horse! Having wrapped the reins around the saddle horn, he was stroking the flanks of his newfound furry friend. I was dumbstruck; words failed me, as did my scream.

Forget the what-ifs, this was a serious concern, even our cheerful guide raised an eyebrow. With sincere cowboy concern, he looked at our son and said, “Hey, you might want to hang on.”
 
I quietly gave some very firm instructions, turned around, and took several deep breaths. In a place marked by beauty, I was a ball of nerves.  I felt it, owned it, and then I made a decision to let go. Not of the reins -- Victor was still being Victor -- but of the need to control. I let go of the need to be both aware of and prepared for every possibility. Sitting horseback, I dissolved into God’s presence. I chose to trust Him, and I calmed. In the middle of everything going on inside me and around me, I sensed the Lord’s nearness, His overseeing care, and His ability to keep watch. All that I could not foresee or control was in the care of the One who loved me most. God was guiding – leading me through it all.

That afternoon, we reached the top, we took pictures, and we laughed. I breathed in the scenery playing out before and below me. God’s mountains were amazing and proved to be even more magnificent on the trail’s decline.

Our son never held onto the reins as securely as I would have liked, but on the adventure, he was joyfully reclining. Since that day in the Tetons, God often brings that image to mind and calls my heart to wrap around the lesson of trust. Trust that is beyond my control or my comfort zone. And when I’m nervous, God listens to the tune I hum and invites me into conversation.

On every trail and within every trial, our loving God carries the bear spray.

Big Love,
Jo

Friend, I don’t know the trail you walk or the trial you face, but God does; He is a faithful, continually present Guide. In both our backyard and in unfamiliar territory, we are invited to trust Him.  Along the steep edge of danger, we can joyfully recline, because He is with us. No peril exists that will keep us from His loving hand. Trusting in Him is a lesson that both sticks and still needs repeating, and it’s a decision that is ours to make.  When you find that you are a ball of nerves, breathe and whisper a prayer. And if humming is your nervous move, hum to Abba God; there is not a tune He cannot name.

Start the conversation. What do you need to tell God? What do you need to hear from Him?

Have you faced a messy situation, in a messy mood, with messy hair and an even messier heart?  I have.

The mirror. I’m back in front of the mirror. It seems that I stand here often. Stuck. It’s as though I’m trying to see if I look, like how I feel?  I’m staring, as though the mirror can answer my question: Can other people see how messy I feel?  

That’s the way of messy situations. They will make us think our feelings are on display as if our forehead magically reveals an LED ticker. Thankfully, that’s not true, yet feelings display in other ways whether we like it or not.
 
Today, I feel messy like I have too much humidity in my hair from too many tears on my pillow. I ponder that maybe there is not enough water under the bridge to make this day feel organized. My act is floundering. I can’t seem to neatly stuff all my stuff into a corner of my brain. I don’t want to. Maybe, I don’t know how?  Focusing with a messy heart feels like work.

Perhaps what I really want is to pour a second cup of coffee and talk to Jesus until I find a way forward. I want to throw my hair in a ponytail and hear from God. I want to sit with Him until the words whispered to Joshua become mine.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 (ESV)

If you’ve been there (if you are there), I see you. God sees you, and He’s not going anywhere. He loves your messy self.

• Messy from lack of sleep.
• Messy from a poor choice.
• Messy from a bad relationship.
• Messy from an overcrowded schedule.
• Messy from an overwhelming situation.

God understands these moments and more. When we are messy, He leans in toward us. And He might not whisper the exact words spoken to Joshua, but the message He gives us will be the exact one we need to hear.

And those pesky feelings? God does those too. He sees and sifts the emotions. With the same finesse used to hang stars, He can pick up our mood and manage it.  He knows when to challenge and how to tread lightly. He counts tears. He numbers each hair.  God can land an encouraging pep talk in the middle of our meltdown without ever missing anything we say.

Being fully heard is a step forward in being fully known, and that knowledge sits at the heart of God Speaks Girl.

Sometimes the very best move we can make is to pour a cup of coffee for a second time.

Big Love,
Jo

Feelings can be hard to manage.  In my experience, whenever I’m feeling messy, it’s most likely that I have too many feelings and too few of them are managed. Perhaps it works that way in your life too. People, even people who love us, can grow weary with feelings work, but God never does. In fact, He leans in toward us, and this truth is always beautiful news. When we are afraid, overwhelmed, exhausted, and out of options – God abides.  Second cups of coffee with Him are relationally priceless. And if your morning is rushed, don’t fret. He’s not going anywhere.

Start the conversation. What do you need to tell God? What do you need to hear from Him?

Hello Moms of Littles (and not-so-littles).  I was thinking about you this week. Praying for you. Your season of life brought a smile to my heart. The season of everything seems like it’s everywhere. Brownie crumbs on the rug. Toys in fifteen places. Chargers perpetually lost. Books scattered across the bed. Sticky candy on the bathroom faucet.  You are in the season of being busy. You are the first one awake; the last one to bed. Being tired becomes something that is normal and manageable. You’re happy to cookie cutter sandwiches into fun shapes or listen to one more chapter book being read, but you also hope to catch the next episode of a favorite show or schedule a girls’ night soon. You need an uninterrupted hour to read ahead for book club or shave your legs.  (For some of you both book club and shaved legs have become a distant memory.)

I see you. I hear you. I have been you.
 
Here’s my insight: The days and years of childhood filling your home end.

One day, your faucets will be void of sticky fingerprints. The embroidered topiary hand towel in the bathroom will go unused; you’ll put it away and marvel at how clean it looks. You’ll wash your hands with a bougie bergamot-scented soap and miss the days of cotton candy, sparkle pop, and superhero citrus whiffing through the air. You’ll be able to join book club, play pickleball, and binge watch Netflix all without a ruffle in the calendar. Dinner can be delivered and no one will order chicken fingers, cheese pizza, or grilled cheese.
 
One day, your home will be quiet. Clean. And very good.

And you’ll miss your littles.

Your heart will ache for one more glimpse of the childhood that is currently sitting on the front pages of your life.

So, take a moment. Shave your legs. Make a cup of hot tea. Breathe. But don’t wish this season away. Don’t miss all the gloriousness of it all.  This Mom season has Jesus written all over it. Seek Him in the fingerprints, the crumbs, the homework chaos; find Him in the never-ending loads of laundry.
 
One day will be here before you know it.

Big Love,
Jo

This image is of the daybed in the downstairs bedroom. Simple. Clean. Festive. Barely touched. I pulled the Christmas sheets off and called my adult children. The pull on my heart pulled me to see all the beautiful and wonderful of this season -- the one where I have time, energy, and resources to make all the guest rooms look Christmasy. The season of knowing that God Speaks Girl; He speaks Mom. Friend, no matter the season, God will speak to your heart. He understands everything.

Start the conversation. What do you need to tell God? What do you need to hear from Him?

*Original publication December 2026.

Are you being pulled in too many directions?

Does a refuge seem like a luxury beyond your reach?

Life can leave us wondering what happened to the time; it’s not uncommon for us to run until we feel ragged and to do things until we are undone; and we are more than capable of becoming both weary and teary.  And worse, we can normalize each of these.

I wrote the following poem to explain or teach the difference between experiencing divine rest and finding divine refuge. Both are needed, and both are provided in God’s providential care.

Rest is so much more than a nap (although it can include a nap), and refuge is so much more than a mere escape or a hiding place. Further, neither is solely dependent on outward variables.  As God’s beloved children, we find that rest and refuge take root and grow in the bedrock of our faith. They take place in the soul and are part of our soul care.

Within a story that is simply busy, alongside a schedule that is demanding, or within a trial that is ineffable, we can experience God’s rest and His refuge, because God is always, fully Himself.  He is our rest, and He is our refuge.

The world pulls at me.
 
My schedule, the situation, a circumstance, finances,
a family member, a trial, responsibilities, others -- all pull.

I am like a toy top with a string; I am being pulled.

Constantly pulled; constantly spinning.

God comes along and carefully, lovingly rewinds the string.
                   
In His care, I am refreshed. Encouraged. Rested.

Then, with benevolent care, the Almighty puts the top in His pocket!
                 
--- He is my refuge.

Big Love,
Jo

Friend, regardless of our need for rest or refuge, God provides and offers both lovingly and faithfully. It’s as though He knew we’d need a place to turn when the schedule was exhausting or the daily demands overwhelming.  In life when we are pulled, He draws us near providing a place of compassion and understanding; a place where what’s going on with us is addressed with a care that leaves us refreshed and protected.  Consider the spinning top illustration and let it change your outlook. Keep it in your heart and turn it into a prayer.

Start the conversation. What do you need to tell God? What do you need to hear from Him?