Soften The Heart: Devotional #30

“As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.”

Ecclesiastes 11:5

Sometimes you hear of things that just make you freeze.

Unbelievable news. Tragedies that feel too big to hold. The sudden, silent crash of reality when life does something you never saw coming.

Sometimes it shakes you to your core that such things happen at all, that this world, the same one where we sing lullabies and light birthday candles, is also a place where deep sorrow and confusion live.

My thoughts scream, “I don’t get it.”

I know I’m not suppose to get it either. We are but children on this earth but the frustration is ever present at times.

I find myself sitting still, eyes locked on nothing, just staring off—wondering. Wondering why. Wondering what the truth is. Wondering how to keep walking forward with the storm of the questions that I possess.

But this verse brings awareness and comfort.

“As you do not know the path of the wind…”

The wind is real, even when I can’t see it. It moves through trees, across oceans, through my hair. I don’t know where it begins or where it ends. I just know it’s there.

And “you do not know how the body is formed in a mother’s womb…”

Another miracle wrapped in mystery. Life forming in secret, one invisible cell at a time, shaped by something far beyond my comprehension.

That’s the point. Faith isn’t about answers—it’s about surrender. About breathing in mystery and still choosing to believe in something good.

There’s a sacredness in not knowing.

There’s room for trust in the questions.

The mystery must remain.

God—the Maker of all things—moves in ways I can’t always trace or explain. And sometimes the most honest prayer I can offer is simply:

“I don’t get it. But I trust You anyway.”

Amen.

Riding the Wind, Swimming the Current

There’s a series I once watched called The Story of God with Morgan Freeman, and there was a quote that stayed with me:

“Birds don’t fly; they ride the wind. Fish don’t swim; they are carried by the water.”

This view is as much about perspective as it is about surrender. It’s poetic, beautiful, and invites reflection.

Have you ever been in a river? The current flows in one direction, and if you try to fight it—swimming upstream—you’ll exhaust yourself and get nowhere. There are moments in life that feel just like this, aren’t there? Times when we push against the current, believing we can change its course, only to find that some things are immovable forces.

The truth is, life has many rivers. Some are worth navigating and working with, while others require us to simply let go. Surrendering isn’t giving up; it’s recognizing when resistance is only causing unnecessary suffering. But how do we know the difference? How do we identify what is a “river” in our lives—the things we cannot control? That’s the hard part.

It takes time, self-awareness, and a willingness to step back from our struggles to see the bigger picture. Sometimes we need to ask ourselves: Am I exhausting myself trying to fight something that just is? And if so, what could happen if I surrendered, trusting the current to carry me?

When I think about the quote, I wonder: do birds actually fly? Do fish truly swim? Or have they simply surrendered to what they are—to their nature—and found harmony within it?

What if we did the same? What if we embraced our own nature, allowing life’s wind and water to guide us instead of resisting them? What if we trusted the flow?

By shifting our perspective, we begin to see the beauty of surrender—not as a defeat, but as an act of profound wisdom. We let go of the need to control and, in doing so, free ourselves to move more fluidly with life.

After all, some of life’s greatest joys aren’t found by fighting the current but by letting it take us somewhere new.