I am in pain.
I don’t mean physically (although no worries, I have that too!). No, I am in emotional pain, spiritual pain. I am grieving. I am grieving over a church that was supposed to be our family but treated us like competition and an annoyance. I am grieving over all that was. I am grieving over all that could have been and now never will be. I feel empty, anxious, and alone. Last night, I really let myself cry about everything as my husband tried to comfort me. I tried to brush it off as being overtired. But he told me, “No, you’re sad. It’s ok to be sad.”
I’m really struggling in this season of life right now. And how long has this season been? I can count it in many ways. It is a season of the past ten weeks, a season of the past twelve months, a season of the past almost two years. And I ache. Every time I raise my hopes, that this might be the time when things work out, they are crushed. I feel like I am living in a state of constant anxiety and loneliness. I don’t know who to trust outside of my family. That pains me deeply.
And deep down, I can feel myself struggling to trust in God’s plans for us. I just don’t see it. Right now, I don’t see how we can go someplace new and make new friends. I don’t see how I’m supposed to be so far from my family. I don’t see where He is taking us next! Where are we going? Where will we live? Who will be there to support us? Will there be anyone? How can we reshape our lives? What does the future hold? So many questions born out of so much fear.
It pains me to know that I am in this state. Yet sometimes I can’t seem to shake it. I feel like my bones are like wax most days, my hours filled with darkness and rain, my minutes spent longing for the next break so I can just go back to the semi peace of sleep. Most of the time I don’t even know how to talk about it, or if I even should. I feel like my foot is slipping, and though I know the Lord will catch me, I don’t know where He will set me down. All of the control I thought I had in my life, what little it was, has been taken from me.
Perhaps the last year has felt like that for you. Perhaps you’re in that place now. And perhaps I am just so overwhelmed that I am not handling this season of unknowns as well as others. Trust is so fragile sometimes. But we are here nevertheless. It is one big ball of fear and pain and grief and anger and loneliness and anxiety. And it just hurts and desires to consume.
Last night, in the midst of my tears and questions, one verse kept coming to mind:
“I believe; help my unbelief!”Mar. 9:24
I know the context of the verse, but right now, that seems to be my cry to God for our context. How wonderful it is that our faith rests on the promises of God and not on our own merits! Still, moments of doubt creep in with these anxieties. People are such fickle beings.
And yet, I still have hope. I trust in God, so I pray. I have faith that God will care for us (Luk. 12:24). I have faith that, when I look back, I will be able to see how God was working through all of this when I just couldn’t see it in the moment (Rom. 8:28 ).
This morning I heard the words, “O Lord, hear my prayer. And let my cry come to you.” (Psa. 102) In the midst of my fear, I know that God is my life and my salvation, my hope, my rock and refuge (Psa. 18:2, 32:6-7). Right now, my prayer is that the Lord will help my unbelief, that He will take away my anxieties, that He will comfort me in my fear, for I am very weak (Psa. 5:3, 23:4, 94:17-19, Prov. 3:5-6, 1 Pet. 5:7, 2 Cor. 1:3-5). I pray that He will comfort you as well.
I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.Psalm 27:13-14
Blessings to you and yours,
~Madelyn Rose Craig