#2

Why am I so quick to answer for You?

Is it really impatience, or is it something deeper? Maybe I’m afraid I won’t like the answer You give. I didn’t like the last one You gave me.

“Wait.”

The one before that? “Not yet.”

Sometimes You give me answers that seem to misunderstand how pressing my need is.

“Just hold on.”

Other times You answer me with a question of Your own. “Do you trust me?”

I’ve concluded I probably can’t handle the reason why. My heart’s pretty confident the ‘why’ might never feel worth it as long as I’m in it, or it’s just not the timing for me to know. I wish that stopped my brain from coming up with ideas, though.

So, where do I go from here? What am I left with if I’m backing out of my one-sided guessing game?

I hear you say, “trust Me,” but I wish that wasn’t what I heard. I don’t even know how to do that. Because I have questions. And the people that care about me have questions. And the doctors have questions. And society has questions. And did I mention my brain just doesn’t stop?

“How’re you doing?” they’ll say. “How’s your health?” they might ask. “You look good. So, you’re all better?” I want to say:

“Terrible. Kinda feel like I’m dying inside.”

“Pretty shitty for a gal in her 30’s.”

“Thanks, I actively tried not to look like a troll but sadly my outward appearance is a piss poor reflection of what my insides feel like.”

I mean, seriously — what should my responses be?

Do I just isolate and avoid? Stay away from anyone that might have questions I can’t answer to their satisfaction? Stick with my people? The ones that expect nothing of me. I’m pretty comfortable with that idea, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far.

So if I can’t avoid everyone, and I certainly can’t avoid my own brain – You know how hard I’ve tried –how am I supposed to trust You when I have no answers, no timeframe? Practically, what does trust even look like in this situation?

I can look up the definition for ‘trust,’ and I have. It means to firmly believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. And I’m able to do that…for a time. And then I get fucking tired.

I prayed for relief at that moment. I believed it would happen. But the relief didn’t come.

I asked for a breakthrough. Fully trusted it would come. It still hasn’t.

I went to bed hoping tomorrow I would wake up healed. I told my body that I’ve spoken by faith. But when I woke up, the pain was so loud, taunting me for daring to believe.

How do I shift my trust from things I can see and feel – relief, breakthrough, healing – to You?

I desperately want You to be here in the flesh. Maybe if I could see the compassion etched into Your face, the tenderness in Your eyes, feel the warmth of Your love permeating every part of me like the first warm day of spring after a painfully cold winter…maybe then I’d be able to trust You fully.

I probably won’t stop asking You to show up in the flesh. I guess it’s part of my process, my quest toward trust. I don’t have it locked in yet. And I don’t think I ever will. Perfection — that’s Your character trait, not mine.

I still hope for healing and breakthrough. I hope for them with every tired, weary bit of my body.

I can’t promise I won’t come up with answers to fill the silence. Can’t promise I won’t feel let down each day that healing doesn’t come. Can’t promise I won’t get angry at You, doubting Your intentions.

But I promise to keep listening.

For Your compassion.

For Your kindness.

For Your affirmation.

For Your love.

What I’m listening to — Growing Pains Pt. 1 & 2 by Elevation Rhythm