State of My Heart: Heavy, anxious, but still choosing to trust.
Today’s Reading
Genesis 23-25
Matthew 7
Today was hard.
Nothing happened.
Nothing changed.
There wasn’t a phone call with bad news or some major event I can point to.
I simply woke up anxious.
And the anxiety stayed with me.
My brain kept finding fears to feed. Every time I noticed it happening, I tried to redirect myself. I prayed. I reminded myself not to make assumptions about a week that hasn’t even happened yet.
We went out and had a good day together as a family.
I laughed.
I enjoyed myself.
I knew in my heart that somehow things would be okay.
And yet…
The heaviness was still there.
Originally, I thought maybe I would skip writing tonight.
Then another thought came:
Maybe these are the days when I need to write the most.
Faith Doesn’t Remove Grief
There was something strangely fitting about today’s reading.
Genesis 23 begins with Sarah’s death.
Abraham grieves.
After everything we’ve just read – the promises, the waiting, Isaac finally being born, Abraham’s incredible faith – we arrive at loss.
Faith didn’t prevent Abraham from experiencing pain.
That stood out to me tonight.
Because maybe I’ve sometimes confused faith with feeling okay.
Maybe I’ve thought that if I’m really trusting God, I shouldn’t be this anxious.
But today I’m anxious.
And I still trust God.
Maybe those things can exist together.
Maybe faith isn’t the absence of fear.
Maybe faith is what I continue choosing while fear is sitting beside me.
What I Know Even When I Don’t Feel It
I’ve said before that I’ve experienced too many things in my life to question anymore whether God is real.
That’s a very personal statement.
I don’t expect anyone reading this to believe something simply because I say I’ve experienced it.
And someday, when I’m ready, I want to tell some of those stories.
Because when I first began genuinely seeking God during some incredibly difficult periods of my life, things happened that changed me.
There were prayers.
There were moments.
There were circumstances I couldn’t easily explain.
There were times when I felt God’s presence so strongly that something inside me changed permanently.
Over the years, I’ve continued watching.
I’ve questioned.
I’ve tested what I believed.
I’ve made mistakes.
I’ve wandered.
I’ve come back.
And through all of it, I’ve noticed a pattern in my own life.
When I’ve given myself over to things that pulled me away from God – fear, negativity, temptation, choices I knew weren’t right – I often experienced consequences from those choices.
Sometimes significant ones.
But when I’ve tried to stay close to God, check my intentions, and simply focus on doing the next right thing, something has been different.
Not because nothing bad happens.
Bad things still happen.
Loss happens.
Fear happens.
People we love die.
Jobs disappear.
Plans fall apart.
Genesis itself makes that pretty clear.
The difference is that I’ve learned I don’t have to walk through those things alone.
And maybe that’s what I mean when I keep saying:
I know it will be okay.
I don’t mean I know I’ll keep my job.
I don’t mean I know this company will survive.
I don’t mean everything will happen the way I desperately want it to happen.
I mean that whatever happens…
I believe God will still be there.
Maybe I’m Finally Ready to Talk About It
There’s another thought I’ve been sitting with.
When I first found God in a way that felt real and personal to me, I remember having this overwhelming desire to tell people.
I remember thinking:
If people understood this, the world could be so different.
But I didn’t really do it.
Part of that was fear.
And if I’m being completely honest, part of it was fear of judgment.
Talking openly about God can make people uncomfortable.
Faith can carry assumptions.
Religion can carry baggage.
Even today, I came across a story about a restaurant chain receiving criticism over Bible verses it has printed on its packaging for years. I haven’t dug deeply enough into the story to know all of the context, but my immediate reaction brought me right back to yesterday’s reflection on kindness.
What is happening to us?
Why does someone else’s expression of faith – or lack of faith – have to feel threatening to our own?
We don’t have to believe the same things. We don’t even have to understand one another completely. But surely we can leave room for people to believe differently without immediately turning that difference into another reason to fight.
And strangely, seeing it made me think about my own hesitation to share this journey.
Maybe fear of judgment has kept a lot of us quieter than we realize.
And for a long time, I think I worried about what people would think of me if I spoke too openly about what I believed and what I’d experienced.
Maybe I’m still afraid of that.
But something feels different now.
I look around at the world and see so much fear, anger, division, loneliness, and hurt.
And I keep wondering:
What exactly am I waiting for?
I’m not trying to convince anyone to believe what I believe.
I’m certainly not qualified to tell anyone exactly what they should believe.
I’m trying to understand more myself.
That’s why I’m reading.
That’s why I’m questioning.
That’s why I’m writing.
But maybe sharing the journey is part of it too.
Maybe someone who feels completely alone will read something here and feel a little less alone.
Maybe someone who has given up on God because of religion will become curious enough to look again.
Maybe someone will share something they’ve experienced that teaches me something.
Or maybe this simply becomes the place where I finally stop being afraid to talk about something that has mattered deeply to me for years.
I don’t know yet.
But I’m here.
And I’m writing.
Matthew 7
One line from today’s reading feels particularly important tonight:
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
Maybe that’s exactly what I’m doing.
I’m seeking.
Not pretending I already have all the answers.
Not demanding that God tell me what happens next.
Just seeking.
Reading.
Praying.
Asking questions.
Paying attention.
And continuing to knock.
Even on the heavy days.
Especially on the heavy days.
Questions I’m Leaving With
Can I trust God even when I don’t feel peaceful?
Have I confused faith with the expectation that everything will turn out the way I want?
What stories have I been afraid to tell because I’m worried about how people might judge me?
And if I truly believe my experiences with God changed my life…
What am I so afraid of sharing?
Today’s Takeaway
Faith isn’t knowing that everything will go the way I want.
It’s trusting that whatever comes, I won’t walk through it alone.
Until next time… keep noticing.