Somewhere in my twenties I found a rock-solid confidence that lasted for three decades. Then the earth quaked under my feet and nothing felt rock-solid anymore. Not even my faith.

Faltering faith

Realizing that God has better plans for me is rebuilding my faith, but still, I can’t quite shake this insecurity. Stuck between writing drafts and pushing publish on my words feels way too personal. Vulnerability is a bit repulsive, so I’ve stuffed feelings and sat on thousands of words; paralyzed by an unwelcome fear.

The fear of not enough

The only time I remember feeling this way before was sitting on the couch with an open anatomy book in my lap and a cadaver waiting for me to correctly identify every nook and cranny of her formaldehyde infused flesh and bone. Paralyzed by fear, I didn’t think I had it in me to walk into that gross anatomy exam with all the people in my medical school class, obviously smarter than me.

Fear greater than faith

Eventually, I got up and drove to school. But now, it’s my written words pushing back, taunting me and tempting me to hide. Last year’s advice seems trite and pat Bible answers aren’t anything everybody doesn’t already know. Rolling my soul’s eyes when confronted with truth, it didn’t seem to work for me anymore.

“Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.” Psalm 27:4 (NLT)

Not me

Stuck between heartbreak and healing, I had trouble finding anything TO say. Besides, I didn’t want to be that girl anymore – the one struggling with loneliness, rejection, unforgiveness, resentment and control; the one whose heart was broken by betrayal and the chronic disease that no one sees. That’s ok, I didn’t want anyone to see. There’s a lot I don’t want you to see.

Words

Maybe, if I didn’t write it, it wasn’t true. Maybe I’m tough and strong and unscarred from trauma if I don’t admit otherwise. Yes, I quit writing when more people unsubscribed than subscribed. My confidence shaken, it seemed my words had little effect on me, much less anyone else.

Unstuck

But here you are. You stuck with me while I wavered between fear and faith. Like a tow truck pulling me out of the muck, you kept reading and encouraging, waiting for me to find the motivation to share what I hope points you to hope. I guess you know what it’s like to be stuck between here and there.

“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.” Psalm 126:4 (NLT)

And here I am baring my soul. Thanks for your patience.