I don’t know about most people, but I know there are a group of questions in my mind that are my downfall. Questions that haunt me and fester and burn until I hit a point where I just can’t take them anymore.
I try to be strong, to convince myself that I don’t need answers, because the answers are there. But all too often, I fall prey to the what-ifs. What if I’m wrong, and they’re all right? What if I’m imagining things? What if… what if… what if…
What if’s are dangerous. They have the power to destroy you and completely throw you off course in your life.
They haunt you, demanding you to consider the other possibilities.
What if I had been braver? What if my mom hadn’t died? What if my step-mom had?
So if I know that the what if’s are so bad, that they’re not to be trusted, then why do I find it so hard to kick them out of my thoughts?
And what does it say about my trust in God?
Passion of the Christ was shown at young adults tonight, and as usual, amidst the bawling and flinching, it got me thinking. Thinking about how much I struggle to trust God. How much giving everything to Christ scares the living daylights out of me.
And it made me wonder. Does it hurt Jesus, knowing that He not only loved me so much He died for me, but that He allowed Himself to be beaten beyond recognition, and I struggle to trust Him? Does it hurt that I doubt His purpose for me, and that rather than allowing Him to guide me, I try to do it all on His own?
I also wonder if my reluctance to trust God comes from the fact that I’ve been let down by so many I’ve encountered in life. Been hurt by so many people. And though in my head, I know that God is none of those, it doesn’t seem to translate to my heart. I fret and worry all too much.
So I suppose, on the one hand, this recognition of my battles of not being able to trust and continuous self-doubt is a step. I just really don’t know what the next one is supposed to be.