Confidence without control

by Jane Mueller

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… for we walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Read 2 Corinthians 5:1–10

On this day in 1932, Amelia Earhart landed in a field in Northern Ireland, having flown solo and nonstop across the Atlantic. Historians write that she was exhausted, cold and unsure about where she was. Still, she had made it.

Earhart didn’t fly with certainty. She flew with resolve. The weather changed, instruments failed and visibility dropped. The journey carried risk from the moment she took off. Confidence, for her, meant stepping forward anyway.

Paul speaks of a confidence like that.

In 2 Corinthians 5, Paul describes life as fragile, like a tent – temporary and vulnerable. Bodies age, plans unravel and outcomes remain uncertain. Paul knows this firsthand, and yet he says, ‘We are confident’ (verses six and eight).

Confident. Not because life is predictable. Not because the future feels secure. Not because everything can be seen or measured.

Paul’s confidence does not rest in worldly knowledge and strength, or in what he can personally secure or manage. It rests in the one who holds him. He writes, ‘We walk by faith, not by sight.’ Faith is trusting that God is already at work beyond what we can see, even when we cannot forecast how things will unfold. Or, as Philip Yancey wrote in Disappointment with God, ‘Faith means believing in advance what will only make sense in reverse.’

Like Earhart, Paul doesn’t deny risk. Rather, he acknowledges it without being ruled by it. He refuses to let uncertainty have the final word or to let fear speak louder than God’s promises. Confidence, for Paul, is not bravado; it’s keeping going when the risk is real, because he knows his life is already held.

This kind of confidence doesn’t eliminate fear. It carries us through it.

And so, I ask myself: What am I avoiding right now because I’m afraid? Where have I mistaken caution for faithfulness, when it might actually be fear? What decision could I approach today with trust rather than fear, remembering that the outcome does not rest on me?

God of grace, when the path ahead feels unclear, and the outcome isn’t mine to manage, steady me. When I’m weighing decisions, juggling responsibilities or quietly wondering how much energy I have left, remind me that I am not alone. I am held by you. Amen.

Jane is a former Lutheran school principal and now serves as the Governance Leadership Director for Lutheran Education SA/NT/WA. Jane has a keen interest in psychology, hiking, learning new things and trying new things.

Pulling on the maroon jersey

by Jane Mueller

Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

… that they may all be one … so that the world may believe that you have sent me (John 17:21).

Read John 17:11b–26

I grew up in South Australia, where football meant AFL. Footy was played with an oval ball, and jumpers were sleeveless. Winter weekends revolved around long arguments about umpiring decisions while kicking a Sherrin in the backyard.

Rugby league was a term used by foreigners. It felt like something that happened somewhere else, to other people.

Then I moved to Queensland.

And it didn’t take long to be re-educated.

I learned that rugby league isn’t just a sport; it’s a cultural commitment. State of Origin is not ‘just a game’. It doesn’t simply appear on the calendar; it shapes it. Organisations wait for the State of Origin dates to be released before setting their own meeting dates and events. After all, expecting attendance at anything unrelated to rugby league during a State of Origin game would be foolishly naïve and wildly optimistic.

For most of the season, men play for rival clubs, where they train separately, chase different trophies and zealously try to beat one another every week. But when State of Origin arrives, club loyalties are set aside. Players who spend most of the year competing against one another pull on the maroon jersey and play together as Queensland. Differences remain, but they are laid down for something bigger. The Maroons play as one, not because they are the same, but because they are committed to a shared purpose.

In today’s reading, Jesus prays for something like that – only deeper, and for the sake of the world.

Jesus prays for all believers. He doesn’t ask that his followers all think the same, agree on everything or lose their distinctiveness. He prays that they may be one – grounded in love, shaped by relationship and held together by God.

And Jesus names what is at stake: ‘So that the world may believe.’ Unity is not an institutional church aspiration – it’s missional. The way followers of Jesus live together communicates something about God to the world.

This kind of unity is not easy because it runs counter to the habits our world rewards. It grows as fruit where love is already at work, forming humility, patience, forgiveness and restraint. Unity is not about winning arguments, but remembering what we’re playing for and who we belong to.

Jesus prays this on the eve of betrayal and abandonment, when everything that could hold his followers together is about to give way. He knows unity will be tested. Still, he places his followers into God’s care and asks that his love – not rivalry – would define them. In a fractured world, unity shaped by love becomes a powerful witness – not because it’s easy, but because it’s rare.

Lord Jesus, you know how easily difference turns into division. When patience runs short, when relationships feel strained, and when unity feels costly, hold us together in your love. Amen.

Jane is a former Lutheran school principal and now serves as the Governance Leadership Director for Lutheran Education SA/NT/WA. Jane has a keen interest in psychology, hiking, learning new things and trying new things.

Rivers, not rations

by Jane Mueller

Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.

I will open rivers on the bare heights and fountains in the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water and the dry land springs of water (Isaiah 41:18).

Read Isaiah 41:17–20

Water appears throughout Scripture.

It appears early, in creation, where God’s Spirit hovers over the waters. It reappears in the wilderness when thirsty people discover that survival depends on God’s provision. (Think: water from rocks, streams that appear, wells discovered just in time.) Water flows through the psalms, the prophets, the gospels and the final vision of Revelation, where a river of life runs clear and unending.

In Isaiah 41, water is urgent. The people Isaiah describes are poor and needy. They are parched. They are searching – not for abundance, but for just enough. Into that desperation, God speaks a promise that feels excessive: rivers on barren heights, fountains in valleys, pools in dry land.

These are not places where water should be.

Throughout Scripture, water is rarely just about hydration. It signals that God is near. It marks moments when life is sustained, boundaries are crossed, and futures are renewed. From the rock in the wilderness to the River Jordan, and from the well where Jesus meets a Samaritan woman to the living water he promises, water appears wherever God is creating life where it seemed unlikely.

Isaiah insists that this provision is not accidental. ‘That they may see and know … that the hand of the Lord has done this’ (verse 20). This water becomes a sign of who God is.

When people are stretched thin, God meets their needs out of his generosity. We are held by the God who provides, often in ways we don’t expect.

The promise of water does not imply that life will never be dry again. But it does announce that dryness will not have the final word.

Gracious and abundant God, you know where I feel dry, stretched thin, or running on empty. Meet me with what I need today – not what I can manufacture, but what only you can give. Open streams of life where I see no way forward, and help me to trust that, even now, I am held by you. Amen.

Jane is a former Lutheran school principal and now serves as the Governance Leadership Director for Lutheran Education SA/NT/WA. Jane has a keen interest in psychology, hiking, learning new things and trying new things.