I don’t know what it is about the kitchen sink, but it’s often where my thoughts get the loudest.

I often love it because it makes space for reflection. My sink faces the window, looking out into the backyard—you can see the wind moving through the trees or the kids playing outside. Some days, that time feels peaceful—like a deep breath. But this day, my mind was spinning.

My husband had just shared his vision about church planting. His heart was steady, his voice full of humble conviction, and his posture radiated authority. He kissed my forehead and asked, “Would you start praying about this?”

I nodded and smiled, but deep down, I was full of uncertainty and a billion questions I couldn’t quite ask just yet. What did this mean? What would it actually look like? Are you sure God is calling US? We’ve been attending our local church our whole lives—what does starting something entirely new even mean?

I didn’t see it as doubt or disbelief that day, but as wonder. I was curious—wondering how this would play out and whether I was the right girl for this Church planning wife job. Whatever that even means. I was a little scared, and completely aware that I didn’t have answers. 

As the water ran, I caught myself whispering to the Lord:
Lord, I’m scared but also… wow!
God, this is bigger than me… I don’t want to do this.
How do I even pray about something this big?
What if I can’t handle all of it—our home, the kids, the schedule, the church?
Lord, I don’t know if I’m ready for this, but if You’re leading, I want in—please show me how to step into it with You.

Part of me was thrilled, and part of me just wanted to hide under the covers.
Please tell me I’m not alone. (Any church planting wives out there?)

I never actually finished the dishes that day. But for the next few weeks, God would humbly meet me at that kitchen sink and in all of my wonder too.

He brought to mind when Sarah laughed at the promise of a son because it seemed impossible. When Thomas had to see the scars for himself before he could believe it was actually Jesus. When Abraham asked God how He would fulfill His promises when everything looked uncertain. Philip, too, when he asked Jesus, “Lord, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us,” Jesus replied, “Anyone who has seen Me has seen the Father.” Philip was looking for something outside of Christ, thinking he needed more, when all along, he had everything he needed in Jesus. None of them had all the answers. None of them were perfect. But God met them faithfully—in their questions, their wonderings, and their waiting.

And in those quiet moments with the Lord, I felt it: the steadiness of a God who doesn’t flinch at our humanity. The One who meets us in the middle of dishes, our wonderings and keeps His promises all the same. The one who whispers the truth that our humanity is not a liability to the call over our life.

Maybe you’re standing in your own place of waiting, spinning or wonder. Don’t belive the lie that doubt is the the opposite of faith. It’s actually part of faith. It’s the invitation to lean deeper into the One who already holds all things and all answers.

The lesson is simple, friend: we don’t need extra plans, signs, or explanations to find God’s presence. Our wonder is a deed already stamped and sealed by Jesus’ blood. It’s the guarantee that He is enough—right now, even in the curiosity, even in the uncertainty.

So, what do we do when doubt rises like the dishes stacked in front of us? Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. Name it and let God hear it. Just talk to Him. Say out loud what’s swirling in your heart—your fears, your questions, your “I have no idea what’s happening” thoughts. He wants to hear it.
   
2. Speak life over it. Remind yourself who God is. Say the truth out loud instead of letting your feelings run the show. Speak the scripture over it.
   
3. See it with hopeful eyes. Try looking at what’s in front of you through God’s eyes. Even if it’s messy or confusing, trust that He’s working behind the scenes. His character will stand true.
   
4. Step out in faith. Do the next thing you know God is asking, even if it feels awkward or scary. Each small step brings your doubt closer to trust.

Remember, God is not asking you to figure it out. He’s asking you to trust that he already has.
Doubt is not a roadblock—it’s a doorway. A doorway to deeper trust, more awareness, and a faith that holds even when the outcome is unseen. So when your doubts rise, step into wonder. Lean into your questions. Let doubt be the bridge, not the barrier, to your present, kind, and faithful Father. Even here. Even now. Even between the dishes and the doubts. He’s got it all planned out.