Monday, August 4, 2014

Letting it Go

     I think sometimes I think too much. For instance, right now I'm thinking about whether or not that was a grammatically correct sentence. I feel like maybe there should be a comma somewhere. Anyway, this habit of thinking to much causes me to become fixated on things sometimes, and I end up getting on my own nerves. As you have probably already figured out, my fixation lately has been trying to understand why I did not get to go to Honduras. I'm getting to the point where I'm annoying myself constantly talking it over and not really getting anywhere, and you're probably pretty tired of reading about it. I've been asking myself why I can't just brush it off and move on, because sometimes things like that happen in life and it could be worse. But moving on has never seemed to be my strong point, I tend to hold on to things and wonder about them for longer than is good for me.
     Since July 7, the day I found out I would not be going to Honduras, I have been wondering. Wondering why God did not want me to go on a trip that would be to serve Him, and why He would allow me to suffer through this situation without giving me answers. Eventually that wonder went even deeper. I had thoughts that I kept to myself because I did not want to admit them, and that's partly what caused my blogging schedule to fall apart. I have decided to share these thoughts now because I can't really get to the point of this post without them.
     I wondered why I was bothering to put my faith in trust in a God who seemed to be doing nothing good for me, and that wonder led to another. My thoughts were something like this. What makes Christianity so great anyway? Why am I bothering to believe all this stuff that I have no proof of and writing about it and thinking about it so much? Anyone can claim to be a prophet, how do I know that Jesus wasn't just some delusional guy falsely claiming to be the Son of God? What if this is all a lie and I'm wasting my time? I was really questioning the very core of my faith, and that takes a lot of mental energy. But throughout these days of wondering, something that really stuck with me was the fact that I really wanted to believe. No matter how angry I got, I was still asking God to help me figure it all out. Granted, not asking very politely, but still asking. I wanted to justify my faith so that I could keep it, and that was profound to me.
     Tonight, I got an answer to one of my questions. There's not really an exciting way to describe it, because it wasn't really a big event. I had come home from a fun evening out with a friend and I was brushing my teeth before bed. I was mentally working over these questions I already mentioned, trying to piece something together that I could put on my blog. Now I'm not some person that claims to have visions or some kind of supernatural face to face encounters with God, and there was certainly nothing fancy about this experience. No visit from an angel, no burning bush, just some words that popped into my head. If Jesus was lying about who he was, why did he allow himself to get nailed to a cross? As soon as I had that thought, I felt like a part of the restlessness and questioning that I have been experiencing since was gone. Because when you really think about it, getting crucified is really, really brutal. I guess that's obvious, but I had never really thought about it that way. To have nails driven through your hands and feet and then have to hang there while you die slowly is no small thing. If Jesus was making it all up, why would he have gone through all of that? Oh, and then there's the fact that He came back three days after He died. Yeah Jennie, that's probably a good indicator that He's the real deal.
     Then after all of that, now that I was feeling pretty peaceful, not to mention quite cured of writer's block, I had another phrase pop into my mind. Let it go. I just felt like this time of questioning, or to steal a phrase from our new pastor, "wrestling with God" is coming to an end. Not all in that moment, but slowly. I know myself, and I know that my process of letting go will be a slow one. I still don't understand what the plan is for me right now, but I feel like the big questions are answered. I'm still sad that my summer didn't turn out the way I wanted it too, and I'm sure I will still get mad about it sometimes, but I finally feel like there is hope that one day I will really be able to let it go.

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