I’m restless.
      Questioning. 
              Seeking. 

Not questioning my beliefs, but more my place in them. I’m not sure of my place, so I’m holding on the my place of the past. It doesn’t jive well anymore. I know there are changes that must be made (mostly just growing up a tad), but I’m railing hard against them because it’s unknown. There’s fear in the unknown. That’s why people are afraid of the dark, they can’t see what is veiled by it. I’ve been here before, about 4 and a half years ago. I was a new college graduate and life was just not working out. Not even in the way I imagined, just not at all. Nothing was working. I questioned every decision I had made that led me to the point I as at, and I was angry. I yelled in anguish at a God that I wasn’t so sure existed anymore. (Turns out, He does. No matter my circumstances). I was afraid of the path I was about to walk, so I was mad. 

Now, I find myself in a similar situation. Not entirely the same, but my feelings are reminiscent of that time 4 and a half years ago. But this time, things are different. It took me a few months to realize this, and those few months were brutal. Now that I’ve acknowledged the familiarity of it all, I can confidently walk through it without calling into question the creator of the universe and savior of my heart. 

A verse in Psalms that gets quoted often by society at large is Psalm 119:105 — “Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path”. It is often thrown about without understanding the full meaning. King David, and those in his time, didn’t exactly have street lamps or flashlights. If they walked in the darkness, they had to carry a lantern in order to see. The lantern only illuminated a few steps in front of them, not their whole path. Charles Spurgeon’s commentary “The Treasury of David” says it best, “This is a true picture of our path through this dark world: we should not know the way, or how to walk in it, if Scripture, like a blazing flambeau, did not reveal it. One of the most practical benefits of Holy Writ is guidance in the acts of daily life: it is not sent to astound us with its brilliance, but to guide us by its instruction. It is true the head needs illumination, but even more the feet need direction, else head and feet may both fall into a ditch. Happy is the man who personally appropriates God’s word, and practically uses it as his comfort and counsellor, — a lamp to his own feet.”

. . .I mean, of course! My circumstances, my relationships, my whole life is fallible. But God. . .isn’t. Ever. He is who He is regardless of my circumstances, my feelings, or even my beliefs. He hems me in, He walks alongside, and He still pursues my heart. He is certainly big enough to handle my restlessness. 

I’ve been here before. I’ve walked this road, this bumpy, dark, winding road. It took me almost a year last time to seek refuge in the Holy Writ. I railed against pressing into the deep love of my Jesus because I couldn’t *feel* it. Now I know that is the  only place to seek when I don’t *feel* it.

 

It is the only place to seek even when I do.