Definitely Maybe

"Maybe" is a difficult word for me.

"Definitely yes": I can plant myself deep in that solid ground, entwine my life around that anchor, and write it in permanent marker on my calendar.

"Ain't gonna happen": I can loosen my grip on the dream, rent a U-Haul to move out of that plan, and pull out the white-out to erase it from my memory.

But "maybe" is another story. Do I turn the page or not? Do I plant deeply or not? {Because spring is on its way and I need to know now...} And when do I pull out the permanent marker versus the eraser?

Yesterday the maybes were eating away at my thoughts. They were a tumble that was rapidly turning into an avalanche. "I can't decide this until I know this, and I can't know that until I figure out the other, and I can't know the other until..." It was an avalanche of unrest and disquiet until God reminded me that  I do have a lifeline: "Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." {I Peter 5:7}

So I wrote two columns for 2017: "Maybes" and "Definites."

I filled in the columns and sat back, surprised. I was surprised by how few maybes there really were. And I  was shocked to stare at them in black and white and realize this: they were all enjoyable possibilities, but I was letting the possibility of not enjoying them steal my joy. Not only that, but I knew I couldn't do all of them and couldn't choose between them, yet I had been expending fruitless energy in worrying that God would make a mistake in choosing which things should define my year. So instead of being defined by my definites, I was trying to define my life by my maybes, and the result was an avalanche of anxiety.

The definites, on the other hand, the things I can write in permanent marker, were far more crucial than the maybes:

I will definitely not find the end of God's love this year.

Jesus will definitely not leave me.

God is definitely sanctifying and refining me.

It was a simple exercise of pen and ink, but truth was suddenly illumined.  If God has given me such solid, anchoring, permanent definites, then why don't I trust Him to define the maybes? In what universe does it make sense to let anxiety over the possibility of missing a maybe steal from the joy I could be relishing now because of the definites?

And at what point do I let anxiety over the maybes define my life? I say definitely never. Instead, I will plant myself in the love of God, anchor my soul in His faithfulness, and broadcast in permanent marker that He is good! Because He definitely is.

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“Maybe:(,” © 2012 Priscila Tonon Ramos, used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/.