We do not know what to do, but our eyes are fixed on you. 
2 Chronicles 20.12

NOT KNOWING what to do is something that comes very naturally to me. Without wanting to offend, I would almost call it something of a spiritual gift. A recent conversation with my four-year-old daughter went something like this:

"I was thinking today that we might go to the park, or maybe we could stay in the garden and climb trees instead. Or, I suppose, if you prefer to stay inside and do some painting . . ."

"You are the Mummy. You need to decide these things."

Irritating though this may be, the reason that I feel able to call an utter lack of decisiveness a gift is that it sends me back to God. Dragging the bags of possibilities for careers, schools, and church initiatives alongside the suitcases filled with helplessness over people fleeing for their lives in Iraq, the spread of the Ebola virus, and the desperate faces that fill the breaking news, I find myself at the feet of God, plagiarising a line: "You are the Father. You need to decide these things."

Our prayer from 2 Chronicles begins with surrender. To some people, admitting a need for help is a simple process, but to others it is not. When we talk about "surrendering to God", we need to steel ourselves to believe that, if this God is the relational and loving Father who he says he is, he cares deeply about our decisions, big and small.

Moreover, this God delights in our admission that we cannot live life alone: God invites us, as we fix our eyes on him, to share in how he sees the world. Sharing even a part of God's heart is an honour. It can also be difficult.

Owing to the privileged and apparently (in our case at least) ever-transitory life of a priest, family Holbird is shortly to be on the move again - possibly. And, without wanting to cast aspersions on anywhere that we might move to in the future (all offers gratefully considered), it has been more than necessary to accept that Jonah did not want to go to Ninevah.

Even if we move to the place that constitutes our heart's desire, there will most likely be happenings and periods of our lives which we will encounter with Jonah-esque enthusiasm. Whatever or wherever your Ninevah is, whenever it comes, the chances are that you would rather not go there, either. If though, however painfully, Ninevah comes up on the cards, then there are two ways of doing things: eyes on God, or eyes not on God.

With our eyes fixed on God, we acquire a different sort of vision. It is not a vision through which all our short-term needs, decisions, and questions are solved. It is, however, a way of seeing through which we put our trust in the One to whom we come. As we acknowledge that we do not know what to do, we also acknowledge our need of God, with a line that he welcomes: "You are the Father. You need to decide these things."

Katy Holbird is a television producer, who blogs at wifemotherandotherlabels.wordpress.com.