My thoughtful husband gifted me with a new camera for my birthday—a Canon M50. He researched all the options, compared prices, asked me questions about preferences, weighed pros and cons, and finally made the purchase that led me into transition.

He tracked the delivery online, texted when the UPS truck was on its way to the house, and when he arrived home from work, immediately set up the blue tooth, and started tinkering with all the buttons, levers, and switches. My son had already set the date and time on his way to the kitchen for lunch.

They love new technology and figuring out how things work. And they know I don’t love either of those things. I moved the camera off the counter to make dinner.

My daughter tells me I’ve been debating . . . wanting . . . longing for a new camera for ten years. Really? I didn’t realize I’d verbalized that. Years ago, when H finally convinced me to make the switch from film to digital, my kids were ages nine and six. And we were planning our first family trip to Rwanda.

I was nervous about changing the camera at such an important time in their lives. It would be their first time to Africa, their first time on a mission’s trip, their first time to see poverty up close, their first time to stand a stone’s throw away from a baboon, giraffe, and hippo. I wanted to document every moment.

Change scares me a little.

Honestly? I was scared to travel to Rwanda with my kids. What if they got ill on the trip? What if they got malaria and it changed their lives for the worse? What if they couldn’t sleep? Or eat Rwandan food?

Uncertainty scares me more than just a little. And God knows about that.

Initially, I hadn’t even considered the kids going with us to Africa until missionaries asked. Bent over the altar, pleading with God about the decision, what I heard led to repentance and humility. And the following response to my prayers has informed every major decision I’ve made since.

All those things you are worrying about have nothing to do with faith. You have left me out of the scenarios you are creating in your head. What if this trip is an opportunity to grow their faith, perspective, and view of the world?

Hundreds of pictures taken on my Canon Rebel XT reveal God’s faithfulness to my kids in Rwanda.

What are you anxious about that leaves God out of the equation?

The most memorable event on that first trip to Africa wasn’t captured in a photo but imprinted with words. “Rwandans know that Americans really love them when they choose to bring their children with them,” said Emmanuel Kolini, Archbishop of Rwanda, during a dinner of plantains and chapati.

My son, Harrison, turned twenty this week. I am no longer the parent of a teenager. But God parents us at every age.

I’ve been using my one and only digital camera for nearly fifteen years. And I am hesitant to part with it.

Harrison has a new girlfriend from Switzerland. She is vegan. And they prepared a delicious dinner on my birthday.

My new camera has been sitting in the same place for days.

The sun is shining, and summer temperatures are returning to London after an autumn tease for several weeks. Harrison asked for two beach towels before leaving the house for Hampstead Heath. Beach towels are packed away in our storage container in Pawleys Island, South Carolina. It’s the first time in four years that beach towels have been requested.

I am slow to warm up to change. The unknown scares me. I like knowing how things are going to go before taking a leap into new territory. And If I don’t have a clue, I tend to self-protect and turn inward.  Protect the familiar like it’s my job and then wrestle through perfectionism until I finally surrender.

Tofu is on my grocery list.

Change is vulnerable. Transition is uncomfortable. Uncertainty is scary. And God uses them all to push us past self-reliance for a reliance on God that is unshakeable.

“Satan’s tactics often start with unbelief. If he can’t make you doubt, then next he will tempt you to sin. In one sense, all sin stems from unbelief.” Nicky Gumbel

Doing the thing that makes you scared is an act of faith; an act of spitting in Satan’s face. And acting your way into faith leads to belief. Growth is impossible without risk.

Be stiff-necked and delay the fulfillment of what God promises. He’s not slow to respond, we are slow to come around to being loved by Him.

Why do you think it took the Israelites forty years to reach the Promised Land when the journey could’ve been made in a few months?

I’m taking a walk with my Canon M50 now. Maybe I’ll go somewhere new. My son and his girlfriend are cooking tonight.

I have several new things I look forward to telling you about in the coming weeks. I’m a little scared but ready to risk after doing things the same way for years. My patrons are the first to get an inside look into my creative process. They’ve been praying me through for months, I’m grateful. Consider joining me on Patreon?  I published a prayer for transition on Patreon and made it public this week. Go take a read, maybe I wrote just for you.

Jesus often uses good questions to bring clarity to the surface and as a personal development coach, I follow His lead. If you are in the uncomfortable place of transition, experiencing change, or immobilized by uncertainty, I am here to help you discover a way forward. You can find out more about coaching with me here.

I’ve been a little quiet here due to many projects (and perfectionism!) in the works but this blog post just came spilling out, it wanted to be written so I went with it. I write to the Sabbath Society every Friday. If you need help making rest realistic and practical, subscribe here.