Sorry I haven’t posted a lot recently.
If I’m being honest, I’m going through some stuff, but as a writer, writing heals, and for that I am thankful.
Yet, despite what I am going through, I believe that God is with me even when I don’t sense His presence.
Being real with you, the past few months have been very rough on me. I can’t feel the Holy Spirit, am very confused about life and circumstances, and it seems that the more I pray, read Scripture, and soak in the Word, the worse and more depressed I feel. However, if I have learned anything while my time in college the past few years, it would be that true faith is found in these moments. The moments where we can’t feel anything or know for certain.
But faith is not a feeling, and, therefore, my belief in God is not contingent on the circumstances that do or don’t happen to me. Regardless of if I am having a good or bad day, or have all my ducks in a row, I still serve a good and loving God. And though my character and choices may change a thousand times over, He still remains constant. That in and of itself is enough to keep believing in Him, even when I don’t sense His presence.
So, right now, as I sit at my college in a cubical all to myself, I remind myself that it is okay to not be okay. It is even okay when words fail to speak, and I feel that I might pull all of my hair out at any minute. I sit in silence and selah to remind my overthinking, overcritical, over analytical, and over perfectionistic mind that most things are out of my control, but because of Christ alone, He is my strength and song of deliverance.
Perhaps in these times of solitude the words are few and the heartstrings scarce because God is revealing that He alone is the true source of life, and not the words, feelings, or circumstances He produces to make me feel, do, say, or act a certain way. And in that silence, maybe the words are Him, and He is speaking, I just have to choose to listen.
To be content.
To grow in the uncertainty.
To worship even when it makes no sense and I can’t feel a thing.
To write when I don’t feel like writing.
To pray when all I do is cry on the floor asking God to make the words appear.
Because “The grass may wither and the flower fades, but the Word of our God will live forever” (Isaiah 40:8, ESV). Even the words He gives to me that I hold so dearly, they are His to give and to take away, and in that, I know He has a plan for everything. Even when they fail to speak.