I’m struggling with faith right now. I’m struggling just when I could use it most. I’ll be honest, I feel like I’ve given God more than His fair share of chances, and I’m tired of him taking and taking. I know I sound spoiled and ungrateful. I know that in the grand scheme, my life is charmed in so many ways.
But tonight, I feel empty of Him. (Or Her, or It, or whatever) And I’m desperately hoping I can find a way to fill up my spiritual well. Because I need it. I need it in spades.
I’ve always been a believer. I’ve not done a very good job of honouring that belief, struggling much of my life with notions of religion and spiritual observance, but I’ve never questioned that there is a power higher than humanity. It’s always just fit for me.
But tonight that belief is shaken, shaken to the core.
And I’m angry. I’m angry and pitiful. And that self-pity is festering. I’m letting it, I’m letting it lick at my wounds and gain traction.
Yet I’m leaving room, just a scrap of space for a sign, some token that I should keep believing. That there is a reason to believe. That all will be fine.
But that’s not life right? Life is full of wretched, difficult stuff. What I’ve got going on, what I’ve been through, is ultimately no worse and no better than anyone else. The things that the people I love must endure., the things that they struggle with that I wish I could sweep away, they are all part of the human condition.
It’s all just life.
And though we learn that we must not take life for granted, it still has a way of leaving us feeling superfluous. Like surplus.
So tonight I struggle with faith. I struggle to believe when I need to believe, when trust is just what I need to help me find the strength I need right now.
Because ultimately I know it’s trust that will provide the grace and strength to see anything through.