Before I Click the Results
Test results in the inbox.
Heart pounds.
Hands shake.
Mind races.
What is on the other side of the click of this button?
A future of more tests, PET scans, anxiety, fear, recurrence… metastasis.
Or a negative result. Relief. A deep breath out. A few more months of peace.
What does my future hold?
But I don’t need to know what comes next.
You’re already there.
Ready. Waiting.
To celebrate with me or cry with me.
To embrace my joy or meet me in despair.
You hold my future in your hands.
That’s how it has always been.
That’s how it will always be.
This result doesn’t surprise You.
It doesn’t confuse or disorient You.
You won’t be startled.
It won’t throw off Your plans.
The result already exists.
It is already known—even if I haven’t seen it yet.
It does not define me.
It does not determine my future.
It does not hold power over me.
God controls the future—not this result.
Whatever it is, it does not exist apart from the future You have designed.
It did not slip through Your fingers.
It is not a mistake.
I can panic.
Let fear rise and cast shadows over every version of the future I imagine.
I can worry.
Picture a life where You are absent—
not working, not providing, not near.
But that is not truth.
I reject these lies.
You call me forward in faith.
Not faith that the results will be “good.”
Not faith that I will get what I want.
But faith that You will be there either way.
Providing. Guiding. Present.
For whatever comes next.
With a prayer for a favorable outcome—
and a plea for Your help either way,
I click the button.
Are you ready for what it will show?
I am not.
I don’t need to be.
Because You are.
And that is enough.
It has to be enough.
It will be enough.
Jesus, please let it be enough.
“You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness
and comfort me again.”
—Psalm 71:20–21
I used to think I needed to be strong enough for whatever came next.
But I’m not.
And I don’t have to be.
Jesus didn’t come to help me try harder—
He came to stand in my place when I couldn’t.
So whatever this result says,
it doesn’t get the final word.
He does.
Read more about this here—> The End of Trying Harder