“I’m kinda at the point where I need something tangible.”
Those are the words I used when I was attempting to explain what I was going through with a friend. He looked at me like I was crazy. As if requesting something from God that I could actually see and touch wasn’t allowed. Those are the same words I said to my therapist who looked and said she understood. Then she described my feelings as a crisis of faith.
Crisis of faith
I had never even considered questioning my faith. I’m a believer. I can’t even imagine what life would be like if I didn’t believe in God. Believing and following are two very different things. I would be lying if I said I haven’t been struggling with life as a follower which has led me to question believing.
It stems from a series of disappointments, I think. One after the other after the other in multiple areas of my life. Some of the things that have happened I’ve never shared with anyone except my therapist. It’s really hard to trust that everything will be okay when things haven’t been okay for a very long time. It’s as if each disappointment has chipped away at my faith little by little and left me where I am right now. In a place of true doubt. Not doubting in God’s existence, but doubt that I’m truly heard. Does He really love me? Does He really care? Is His plan really perfect? Because so far from where I’m standing it actually kinda sucks. I had gotten to a point where I even asked God to take me while I still had what little faith I have left knowing that death was not ultimately what I wanted.
I’m kinda at the point where I need something tangible… words that God had heard from me before I shared it with anyone else. Yes, I asked God for something I could physically see and/or touch as proof. Is that wrong? Some would say yes. But he delivered and in the most unexpected way. While I’m grateful for how God blessed me (more on that to come), like I told my therapist – I don’t want to put stipulations on my relationship with God. I don’t want to constantly live in a state of “show me something or I’m walking away from this Christian thing”. That’s no way to live. In the end of our conversation she said two words to me that have changed the way I look at what I’m currently going through – it’s okay.
It’s okay to wonder. It’s okay to question. It’s okay to be curious. It’s okay if nobody else understands. It’s okay to be where I am. It’s okay to admit that my faith is shaky right now because I know that it won’t always be this way. It’s okay because I’m not the first person to experience this and I won’t be the last. I have doubts and for right now, it’s okay.
Xoxo,
Ash, RN
P.S. – I saw this poem a few years ago and it’s been on my heart since I started having doubts. It’s by Joseph Solomon. Hope you enjoy ✌🏽