Confession: It’s a good thing I joked about coming off antidepressant meds while I still could—while it was fuzzy and funny. I wasn’t laughing two weeks later. I thought I was losing my mind.
But I’d rather not think about that so much now—only say hence, six blog posts in three weeks. I can’t write when I’m very unhappy.
A brain is an odd thing.
Carefully I weave the fabric of my life—choices and plans, colors and textures. When I awake in the morning, I take up the thread. I weave.
Then I ask one question—Why? And the thread unravels.
I’ve come to a very important decision. Doubt may be a necessary path at certain times in life, but it’s not meant to spend a life on. I used to love asking philosophical questions for kicks—Who are we? Why are we here? What is this all about, anyway?
But I’ve lived there for a few months now, the last month worst of all, and I see what sickly colors bloom beneath this grow light. I thought I had lots of doubts, that they were coming from deep inside me; I see that instead, I was having them insinuated, hurled, bombarded at me–temptation disguised as philosophy: the temptation each morning to unravel all I’d woven the day before—the temptation to avoid moving forward because I simply had to keep chasing these winding rabbit trails to nowhere—the temptation to avoid trusting Him until I could figure Him out.
And then I came to a fork. I knew it was coming up, but I thought it looked this way, that I had to choose between faith and unbelief.
When I got there I found it looked like this:
that my paths of faith and unbelief had been separate long enough, and I split in two, gritting my teeth into duty.
He drew me forward into love.
Not “The world is ugly.”
Not “The world is unfair.”
But “The world is. Now, what am I going to have for breakfast?”
Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the hope of the world.
🙂
Doubt is a terrible thing. It’s my biggest struggle. There are some things that feel like they should definitely be thought about, but then if you go there it feels like you will lose your mind. Yeah, you’re right; better to stick with thinking about breakfast. (I’m getting hungry as we speak!) Here’s a few lines I penned about doubt recently…………
Now doubt, he comes a creepin’
On some sly fox feet,
Like the fog up the hollar
While you’re fast asleep,
A slippin’ and a slidin’
Thru forest and glen
Till it feels like darkness with the sun shine-in’
I get this. I really do.
oh Shari. ( I probably oh-Shari you a lot. I hope you don’t mind.)
I’m sorry about the hard weeks.
You have some really insightful stuff to say about doubt. This post comes so, so close to home that I wondered for a minute if you were psychic. There are those of us who think too much. We pride ourselves in it, even. Then it gets us in deep and we need to come out and breathe in great gulps of faith before we lose our minds entirely.
I wish we could talk. I will keep you close to my heart.
I love that He drew you forward into love.
May your weaving be beautiful. Maybe it includes going back on meds even if it’s May.
I love the way you relate your journey this spring. I’m sorry you are facing this. But your words are a healing touch to all who struggle w/ doubt, unbelief, and a weak faith: I include myself in that– and even now.
I just heard someone sharing their story of infertility, miscarriage, and life-out-of-control. They explained the Y they had come to(they described it as your first Y), and how they had to choose faith. Incidently, now as I recollect the conversation, I realize they were talking about your second Y. I believe that’s the way so many of us should view of the Father’s love for us, and His drawing us into faith. I think I try to muster up this huge faith within me, and feel guilty for a doubt or two.
Would “trust” be a word to describe the second Y?
Love to you!
“I’m sorry you are facing this. But your words are a healing touch to all who struggle w/ doubt, unbelief, and a weak faith.”
I’ll echo that. Hearing another’s journey through the hard places makes our own hard places a little lighter, simply because we don’t feel so alone. And the satisfaction of having it voiced in just the right words… it releases something for those who cannot speak.
As for the two Y’s, that’s a beautiful thought that I will think on all week. God does have a way of pulling us toward his love, and we often don’t even realize he’s doing it!
This makes sense…closing off the opportunity for doubt to wreck havoc. Jim always tells me “the answer is very simple” but we try to complicate things in effort to keep from seeing the hard, basic truth. Keep your chin up!