“the story you will wrestle with forever”
“Some days I am not sure if my faith is riddled with doubt or whether, graciously, my doubt is riddled with faith. And yet I continue to live in a world the way a religious person lives in the world; I keep living in a world that I know to be enchanted, and not left alone. I doubt; I am uncertain; I am restless, prone to wander. And yet glimmers of hope keep interrupting my gaze.”
“What you promise when you are confirmed…is not that you will believe this forever. What you promise when you are confirmed is that this is the story you will wrestle with forever.”
Frankly, there are so many moments where it’s all I can do to stutter out, “I just don’t understand. I really just don’t know. You’re good, right? Like You’re actually good? Okay…?” My story is riddled with moments of intense thankfulness, of a belief in the truth of who Jesus is that is deeper than anything else I have ever experienced and compels me in a way that nothing else could. Yet alongside those moments are ones of doubt, of brokenness, of not understanding, of shouting at the heavens and shaking my fists; moments where the only thing that makes sense to me is to collapse like a child on the floor, weeping and scraping my forehead on the ground, whispering, “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.”
But those moments are what have made my faith my own, moments that have been a part of writing a story that is true to who I am. In these recent years when I have learned to allow myself space to doubt, I have found a depth to my love for God, to my faith, as I practice living as one who is saved by grace and is allowed to not understand.
[photo credit here]