Some mornings I lift a lead blanket to get out of bed. Some evenings I toss leaves to get to sleep. For me, decisions are like that. Sometimes I can’t get out from under them, so I toss them. They are the big stinkers on this walk.

This girl is fairly decisive. She made big decisions for her children based on their bents, for students based on their needs, for staff based on their hopes. She made forward thinking, planning types of decisions. She made practical and even risky decisions. She used to make them all day long with prayer and with her husband. She didn’t dread them. She made them.

Now she can’t seem to make them.

I didn’t realize how much of marriage makes decisions. “Babe, should we buy a car now or after we retire? If we’re going to Colorado in July, should we skip Oregon in June? How should we arrange the furniture? Do you think the Lord wants us at the big church with our children or at the small church where we can make friends faster?”

This girl is not so decisive. She thinks for 2 minutes. She prays for 3 minutes. She throws up her hands for the rest of the minutes. She misses the man that would say: “This chair feels great, let’s get it.” Or “No need to haggle that insurance premium. This agent contractor knows what he’s doing.” She misses her sounding board, her brainstormer, her confidence. She misses the one who made her feel so sure, even kinda smart.

But here’s what happens. When I throw up my hands, Jesus grabs them, holds them and puts another portion of love in them. The walk has been loaded with a lot of stinker decisions. A lot. Slowly, Jesusfully, this girl is making decisions.