When Trust Leaves Space
Lessons from writers, readers, and Jesus
Before we dive in, a quick update...
I was a little nervous sharing the first Transformation Series post, but many of you reached out to say how much Christine’s words resonated with you. (And shout out to Christine for sharing her wisdom with us!)
The next guest post in the series will be released in two weeks. I’m excited for you to read it!
I like words.
Most writers do.
We spend our days searching for the right word, the right phrase, the right way to communicate what we’re trying to say.
Lately, I've found myself thinking about the relationship between certain words—peace and rest, trust and hope, courage and confidence, excellence and perfectionism.
At first, I thought I was interested in the differences between them. But the more I sat with these pairings, the more I realized they all seemed to point me toward the same question:
What does trust actually look like?
The question surfaced during a writing coaching session. A young writer was working on a story with a powerful message woven throughout. But after writing an important scene, he immediately wanted to explain it.
To summarize.
To interpret.
To make sure readers understood exactly what they were supposed to learn.
It’s something I see all the time with writers. And something I still struggle with myself.
We say we want readers to connect with our stories.
Then we explain the very thing we want them to experience.
We rush to tell them what the moment means before they’ve had a chance to feel it.
Why?
Because we’re afraid they won’t get it. Actually, we’re afraid they’ll get it wrong.
We’re afraid they’ll misunderstand our intentions, miss our heart, or arrive at a different conclusion than the one we intended.
So, we add another sentence.
Another paragraph.
Another explanation.
Not always for clarity.
Sometimes for protection.
During my time at the Vision Christian Writers Conference, I heard fantasy author Daniel Schwabauer say:
“Instead of painting pictures with your words, paint puzzles.”
Trust the story. Trust the reader. Leave room for discovery.
As I’ve reflected on that advice, I’ve realized this isn’t just a writing issue.
It’s a faith issue.
How often do we approach God the same way?
We want Him to explain. He invites us to trust.
We want certainty. He offers relationship.
We want the entire map. He gives us enough light for the next step.
Not because He is withholding, but because trust cannot grow where certainty leaves no room for it.
The more I thought about this, the more I noticed this about Jesus.
He was remarkably comfortable leaving space.
Space for questions, mystery, and for people to wrestle with what He said.
He taught in parables.
He answered questions with questions.
Some understood Him. Some didn’t. Some walked away confused. Some misunderstood His motives entirely.
Yet He never seemed driven by the need to manage how everyone perceived Him.
He didn’t need to defend his position or overexplain.
He trusted the Father.
Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about those word pairings I mentioned earlier.
Peace and rest.
Trust and hope.
Courage and confidence.
Excellence and perfectionism.
The more I’ve reflected on them, the more I’ve realized they’re connected by a common thread: trust.
Courage doesn’t require confidence. Often confidence comes because courage acted first.
Hope doesn’t require visible evidence. It rests in the character of God.
Peace doesn’t require perfect circumstances. And rest doesn’t require having everything figured out.
Excellence doesn’t require perfection, yet perfectionism often requires control—the need to get it right, avoid mistakes, and protect ourselves from criticism, failure, or shame.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if many of our struggles stem from the same place.
We want to manage the story. We want to control the outcome. We want to ensure we’re understood and secure the ending before we’ve finished living the chapter.
God is the author of your story. Stop trying to steal the pen.
A few weeks ago, while speaking at the Christian Women in Media Nashville Luncheon, I shared that phrase and it has stayed with me ever since.
Maybe that’s what all of this comes back to.
Trust.
So that’s the challenge for you today, my friend—a little different than my normal reflection questions.
This week, practice trust.
Choose one area of your life where you’ve been trying to control the narrative, force an outcome, or demand answers before they’re given.
It could be a relationship, a decision, a timeline, a dream, or a chapter of your story.
Then spend some time with the Lord and ask Him what it would look like to loosen your grip on the pen.
Not by figuring out the ending, writing ahead, or by gaining more certainty.
But by simply remaining faithful to the page in front of you.
What I'm Trusting God with Lately
Teaching...
Next weekend, I’ll be heading to the Southern Christian Writers Conference in Birmingham, Alabama, where I’ll be teaching a workshop on Substack. This will be my third year attending with my local writers group, and I’m looking forward to learning, reconnecting with friends, and encouraging other writers. It’s such a gift to share what I’ve learned while continuing to learn alongside others. It’s not too late to sign up. They also have a virtual option available!
Reading...
At the moment, I’m not reading much outside of my Bible, devotional time, and client work. That’s simply the reality of this season. However, I just downloaded The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry and have a few Audible credits waiting to be used. I’d love your recommendations—what’s a book that’s challenged, encouraged, or inspired you recently?
Writing...
Adeline’s Quest. All day. Everyday. (Okay, maybe not all day, every day—I do have a family, clients, and a dental practice to help run!)
But I am consistently working through revisions two to three times each week. It’s a slower process than I anticipated, but I’m learning so much about storytelling, trust, and myself as a writer along the way. Growth happens one page at a time.
Celebrating...
This one is hard for me because my tendency is to move on to the next thing before pausing to acknowledge what was completed.
But I’m celebrating the successful completion of my 100 Days of Doodle Diaries challenge.
One hundred days.
One hundred doodles.
One hundred opportunities to choose process over perfection.
Looking back, I’m reminded that growth rarely happens through dramatic leaps. More often, it happens through small, faithful steps repeated over time.
Praying...
Discernment.
I’ve found myself praying often for wisdom lately—not just for the big decisions, but for the everyday ones too.
As our dental practice continues to grow, speaking opportunities arise, writing projects progress, and family life remains beautifully full, I’m asking God to help me recognize what belongs in this season and what doesn’t.
Not every good opportunity is my assignment.
And not every open door is mine to walk through.
So I’m praying for the courage to say yes when He says yes, no when He says no, and the patience to trust Him while I wait for clarity.
Here’s to loosening our grip on the pen and trusting the Author a little more this week.
Stephanie