We had piled into the car and were on our way to celebrate NYE at our favorite hibachi spot. It was early, barely 4 pm, we wanted to beat the crowds to come home to ring in 2025 with family games and munchies. As we made the left turn onto a main thoroughfare out of our little neighborhood, we all we taken aback by the biggest, most vibrant rainbow each of us had ever seen. Every variation of color shade was apparent and it truly seemed close enough that we could realistically find the mythical pot of gold on either end of the arc.

Immediately, all five of us started chatting and the vehicle was a buzz. How bright. How pretty. How close. How good our God is. His promises then to Noah, of provision and protection, are still true now to me and my family.

After dinner, after games and after we clanged in the new year at midnight (Banging metal bowls, pots and pans outside is a Vinson family tradition!), we gathered around the table once more and talked about the year ahead. Riley graduates with her undergrad degree. Piper becomes a new driver. Eliza begins middle school. Wally transitions to a new ministry role.

There’s a lot of uncertainty in our future. There are many details that are up in the air. Next steps are still unsure and exact timeframes remain indefinite. We can make plans, but we acknowledge that we have little to no control about how they will pan out.

As I type these words, a winter storm is tracking across the area. Forecasting it has been a challenge, even for Jim Cantore and his team. The predictions have changed and are still changing. They have not known the timing, the accumulations, the exact type of precipitation. For all of the technology, man still can’t quite get it exactly right when it comes to predicting weather – and even if we could predict it, we know we can’t begin to control it.

Still, we made plans as best we could with the information we had when we had it. We sent Riley back to college a day early to beat the storm. We have food to fix if we can’t get out. We have food to eat if we lose power and can’t cook. We made sure that we have our phones charged just in case. Yet, we don’t know exactly what will happen and we ultimately know we can’t really control outcomes either.

Will we go to school tomorrow? Will we return to “normal” on Tuesday? We don’t know. All this uncertainty, on top of the January – after the holidays – let downs, can make for a pretty depressing Sunday morning.

Watching my oldest “baby” pull out of the driveway yesterday not knowing when I will see her again, brought tears to my eyes. The thought of taking down trees and packing up Christmas, makes the gray mood grow. My thoughts slid down the slippery, spiraling slope of negativity. What happens next? Why me? I don’t wanna . . . Poor me. What if? The uncertainty and lack of control can easily become overwhelming and suffocating.

I understand why so many people wrestle with depression this time of the year. I get that Seasonal Depression Disorder is a very real thing and that it can be paralyzing. So, yesterday, though it was cold, when the sun was still very brightly shining, I felt drawn to take a walk, to breathe some fresh air and to spend some time out in God’s creation. I listened to a podcast and intentionally turned my thoughts toward God.

As I listened to the “Knowing Faith” crew discuss Revelation, my focus became less self-centered, and my heart began to soften. It wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t drastic. It was progress. As I got into bed last night, not knowing what the overnight weather would bring, it was like the Holy Spirit whispered to me, “You have so much to be thankful for,” and He reminded me of that NYE’s rainbow.

At the time I first saw it, I worshipped. Not with singing, but in prayer, thinking of all the good that God had promised, the blessings He had provided and the protections that He had put in place. I was thinking of the things that had happened just that week – a blessed Christmas season, new tires on the car we were riding in, the opportunity to be with my family – and how these things were just the tip of the iceberg of all that He had done for us over the year that was ending. I was assured by Him through the presence of that rainbow, that God would continue to keep His promises of protection and provision into all the uncertainties that we were facing in the year to come.

Just as quickly as that vivid, vibrant rainbow faded, so did my remembrance of God’s good goodness and sovereign control. Ouch.

Forgive me Lord for my lack of faith. Thank You for Your mercy and kindness to gently remind me, yet again (and again and again) of Your presence and place in my life. I choose to worship You.