Rain pounded my windshield on the drive to work this morning. I always play a game where I try to use my windshield wipers as little as possible. I set it on the lowest wipe frequency, then slowly increase the rate, click by click, until just as I’m about to lose sight of the road, whoosh, the view is clear again. And that’s where it stays. We can talk about my windshield wiper neurosis later.

This morning, I got a mini epiphany: Most of the time the windshield of my mental state is clear. I can see through the feelings in my heart and the thoughts in my mind to the world beyond. But not this last month. For whatever reason, my windshield has been clouded and covered and I’ve had a hard time seeing past it. You could call the things falling on my windshield heartache, sadness, disappointment, discontent, frustration, or depression. But last night, listening to my husband pray for us and thank God for me (!), I realized the only thing clouding my view is the sin of not trusting God.

I confessed it to Brad and then prayed for forgiveness and for God to teach my heart to incline toward His (Psalm 119: 36). I’m confessing it here, too, because all of this has kept me from writing in this space and I need to clear the air.

One last thing. This morning I started reading 1 Corinthians and saw this windshield-wiping verse:

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)