Faith and trust

There are seasons in which it’s easy to share, and then there are seasons wherein I go into turtle mode.

Today, I know I need to share. As a matter of fact, I know I need to share more. Even though it seems like I wear my heart on my sleeve, I really don’t.

Shocking, I know.

Because, when I write consistently, I seem like an over-sharer.

The past few weeks have been rough. Family stuff. Heart stuff. Life stuff.

The main theme that I’ve been facing is faith and trust in God.

You see…He gave me a vision for my life a long time ago. And I haven’t been living that purpose. For well over a decade, nearly every decision I’ve made has been out of fear.

A few weeks ago, I got a a few gut punches that left me speechless and broken.

One of the punches would have made others shout, “I knew it. Fuck YOU!”

I didn’t.

Why not?

Because whenever I start packing my emotional bags, God asks me, “But Deneen, do you trust me?”

Every time He asks me that, I know that there is going to be a struggle involved.

Now, do not misconstrue what I’m saying about God. I know that God is good. I know that God has my best intentions at heart.

The scripture upon which I’ve been anchored as of late is Ecclesiastes 3:11: God makes everything beautiful in His time.

The way that God has always worked in my life, when He asks if I trust Him, is an event, a season that is hard…a season in which strength is forged in me, despite me feeling like I can’t breathe or step another step.

So, tonight, as I heard God ask me if I trust Him, every cell in my body wants to scream HELL NO I DON’T! PLEASE STOP! I’M NOT AS STRONG AS YOU THINK I AM. I AM A DELICATE FLOWER DAMMIT.

But…that’s not me. I am a strong fucker who refuses to cry uncle.

I can’t tell Him no, because deep inside of me, I know that there are people who need to hear the story that will come from this season.

I know that there is evil that will be called to account if I stay the course.

I know that by being faithful, people will be inspired.

I have to be honest…and take responsibility for all of this. I am responsible for my reaction to everything that I’ve gone through.

It has been my choice to implode instead of sharing my way through it. Pride is an ugly, isolating thing.

It has been my choice to allow my happiness to be attached to circumstances instead of standing on the knowledge that the joy of the Lord is my strength.

It was my choice to stew in my yucky emotions instead of journaling it out, looking at my soul and working through things.

It was my choice to eat and drink to numb myself instead of leaning into the emotions and seeing them for what they are.

It was my choice to play the role of victim (in my own mind) when I knew what my situation truly was.

It is my choice to stay the course even though it may be painful at times.

When you take responsibility for your life, for your decisions, for what you allow in your life, then you are in control. Can it stop the storms from brewing around you? Nope. But it IS the difference between dancing in the rain and jumping in puddles and being wet and miserable.

So…how have YOU been?

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