Faith Over Chaos

My son Daniel used to have this adorable little habit when he was caught red-handed in mischief. Well to be honest I wasn’t thinking about how adorable at the time. He’d just… stare at me. Like maybe if he held eye contact long enough, I’d forget the writings on the wall, the missing cookies, or the suspicious jelly trail leading directly from the kitchen to his room. No blinking. No words. Just pure toddler-level Jedi mind tricks.

And there I was, knowing exactly what he’d done, just waiting for him to say it. Not because I needed the facts—I had the evidence, the motive, and the jelly—but because I wanted his heart. I wanted him to admit it, to come clean, to open the door to repentance and restoration. Because that’s what love does. It doesn’t demand a confession for the sake of justice—it longs for connection.

God’s the same way with us. He knows us. He knows you.

He already knows our fears, our failures, our tangled emotions. He sees the mess, the motive, and the metaphorical jelly trail. But He still invites us to speak—not to inform Him, but to transform us. Because honesty with God isn’t just about confession—it’s about relationship. It’s about trust. It’s about letting Him into the sticky places.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.” — Psalm 139:1–4

That’s not surveillance. That’s intimacy. That’s Eden Thinking. Not hiding in the bushes, but walking in the garden. Not performing, but being known. Not just cleaned—but held.

I didn’t want Daniel to feel shame—I wanted him to feel safe. To know that truth leads to healing, not punishment. That love waits with open arms, not a lecture. And God wants the same. He’s not just after our confessions—He’s after our communion. He wants us to talk to Him, not just when we’ve messed up, but when we’re scared, confused, joyful, or just… sticky.

So come boldly. Whether it’s a confession, a cry for help, or a whispered “I don’t know what I’m doing,” He welcomes it. He already knows. But He still wants to hear it from you.

…your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” — Matthew 6:8

Because He’s not just the God who sees.

He’s the God who stays. He’s the God we can walk and talk with. That is having faith over my chaos. Trusting the safety of confession with the assurance of love. Trusting the asking with the assurance that He’s not surprised by the jelly—He’s just waiting for the conversation.

Helping you find peace in the garden again— yes, even with jelly on your hands.

Let’s wipe off the jelly and walk into the garden with these questions.

1. What’s something you’ve been holding back from saying to God?
2. What do you need from God today that you haven’t dared to ask for?
3. If God already knows, what’s stopping you from saying it?
4. What’s one sticky place you’ve been silent in—and how might speaking it change things?