By Linda Evans Shepherd
Clarity doesn’t always show up at the top of the mountain—sometimes it waits for you halfway down, breathless and freezing, with a lesson you didn’t expect to learn.
Years ago, I was skiing in Aspen when a storm rolled in.
I found myself stuck on a chairlift in howling wind, with a wind chill of -20 degrees.
As the wind whipped my chair sideways and the feeling left my hands and feet, a sudden moment of clarity hit me like the cold itself.
I didn’t actually enjoy skiing.
Not like I thought I did. And I certainly didn’t enjoy being suspended in the air in arctic temperatures.
By the time I finally skied down and found myself cradling a cup of hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire, it hit me—I was done chasing the adrenaline of the slopes. I wanted something different. Something warmer, quieter, deeper.
Now, instead of hitting the slopes on Saturdays, I hit the Word. I spend those mornings on my church’s prayer team, covering people in intercession and encouragement. It’s a rhythm I never could’ve imagined back on that frozen lift—but one I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Clarity often comes this way—not before we move, but as we move.
Like Peter stepping out of the boat onto stormy water, the miracle isn’t just in seeing clearly— it’s in trusting that Jesus will meet us there. Peter didn’t wait for calm seas or perfect conditions.
He responded to the voice of Jesus and took a bold, brave step into the unknown. That’s what clarity often requires of us: not certainty, but surrender.
Not a full plan, but a willing heart. And most of all, eyes locked on Jesus. When Peter looked at the waves, he started to sink. But when he looked at Jesus, he walked on water.
That’s a message we all need when life feels stormy or stuck— when the wind is howling and our footing feels unsteady. Clarity doesn’t always mean knowing exactly where we’re going. Sometimes it just means knowing Who we’re walking toward.
If you’re searching for clarity right now, I hope this issue meets you in the “in-between.”
You’ll find stories and insights from women who’ve navigated foggy seasons, unclear callings, and messy middles—and discovered that God doesn’t need perfect conditions to speak. Sometimes, all He needs is for us to take one faithful step.
And when we do? The view on the way down might just change everything.
